


The Mummy

by The_Caffeinated_Hamster



Category: The Mummy (1999), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: All Characters from BNHA - Freeform, Attempted Historical Accuracy, Character with PTSD, I'm really here to express my love of the Mummy and BNHA/MHA in one go, M/M, TW: attempted execution, The Mummy AU, Warnings will also be noted in the author’s notes at the top of each chapter if needed, attempted accuracy in mythology as well, author having fun, erasermight, tags will change overtime and as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18042101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Caffeinated_Hamster/pseuds/The_Caffeinated_Hamster
Summary: An AU no one asked for, following the general plot of the Mummy 1999. Toshinori is an ex-military man turned librarian, his brother Hizashi is a down on his luck artist and the worlds grumpiest Medjay team up against the undead monstrosity of All For One.





	1. Prologue: The War of Two Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to find my love of writing and creating again. Figured this was a good way to start. It really started when I found The Mummy was on Netflix while I was coming off of a binge watch of BNHA/MHA and my brain seemed to find the combination fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where All things Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this fic turns out well, I have not been in a space where I could write for the longest time. I figured why not start something new so I can continue the things I've already began.
> 
> Warnings: Character Deaths, mummification while still alive

Year: 2287 BC (During the collapse of the Old Kingdom)

Egypt was in conflict, most felt it was the end of days. The Kingdom divided and the Pharaoh dead. His corpse left to rot in the unforgiving heat of the summer sun. The remaining nobility did not wish to incur the wrath of the Pharaoh’s eldest son leaving the leader to be bit by bit fall apart and be carried off or devoured by scavenging mongrels. 

The clash between the twin brothers had been felt the whole kingdom. Some, who fell to knee for the eldest merely wishing to side with power and the rightful heir to the throne of Egypt. The remaining forces stood alongside the youngest twin, demanding accountability and justice for their departed King.

It had been said that the Eldest Twin had been born with great power: unearthly strength and an ability to take other’s own divine gifts no matter how strong the individual was. His youngest brother, had been born with no such gifts, but was a fine and dutiful warrior. Impressed by his brother’s tenacity in their teens, the youngest was given a branch of the elder’s power. 

The Gift was honed and tweaked and made to fit the boy’s growing sense of justice. 

These two Great Powers came to a head one fateful night, where the two had struck an uneasy truce, and to come together as a family one last time.

“I do wish you would set this war aside, our country is crumbling as we speak, Chike*. Give some sway to the people.”

“You only say as much since the people are on your side, tell me did your little rallying speeches give a spine to the farmers?” The Eldest, Chike, tilted his head his face fixed in a blank expression, “What makes you think I should heed the peasants? Divine Blood flows in my veins. As for you? I was sure when we were younger that we were equal. But now? Now I am not sure.” 

The youngest reclined in his seat surveying his brother, not recognizing him anymore, “Perhaps so, but there is strength to be found in common blood after all there are far more of us than there are of you. But I doubt you can remove the kind gift you gave me when we were sixteen.” 

“I can reclaim it. It is, after all, my Gift.” The strong line of Chike’s lip curled up into a snarl. 

“You sound like you are worried Chike… if I may give you one bit of advice. If you were so worried about your meek, Giftless brother, you shouldn’t have given him such a present. It would have made him easier to kill in the night. Just like you did with father.” The Youngest said smoothly sipping his wine. His thigh tensed as the air crackled. 

“Bold statements from a little boy with out his little playmates. What are they calling themselves again?”

“Medjay.” another sip of wine, “Yes, I am younger, but the one that’s acting like a brat, is you.” 

The air crackled with unspent energy, and the light in Chike’s eyes darkened significantly the snarl increasing by the moment, “Are you finished, Ata**?” 

With one final sip the goblet was set down. Ata rolled his neck and gave Chike a playful smile, “I suppose I better be. I seemed to have worn out my welcome… shall we end this?”

“Lets.” 

The Dining room had exploded into violence. The eldest brother moving first throwing the table at his twin who had swatted the table away with one hard blow from his forearm. 

Outside concerned armies watched- some pausing to look at each other as shadows bounced off of tall walls and lights of glorious colour flashed throughout. Before the Palace began to crack and split from the force of the two clashing within. Servants fled, or were caught up in the maelstrom as tattered body parts flew around the Palace from the all consuming rage of the Eldest. 

The armies clashed, at last, taking it as a signal to finally put an end to it all. 

Within the shattering Palace Walls the Brothers grappled, fingers digging into flesh and ripping away slow strips of skin and muscle. 

“Chike however this ends, satisfy one burning question…” Ata dared raise his voice in the thick of battle.

“Not Chike, All for One.”

“Fine, then I am One for All. Answer me, All for One- why did you kill our father?”

“You were always slow witted. Isn’t it obvious? I wanted _it all._ ” 

The two broke off, both bleeding. 

“Goodbye, One for All.” 

“Goodbye, All for One.” 

They clashed for the final time, the force of their blows causing the very Palace to explode. The two opposing factions being blown away from the blast or swallowed by the fissures that cut jagged lines within the very earth. 

It was an ending, but not an ending anyone had expected. There was no one victor, just two dead and broken bodies found still in midblow. Their oddly intact bodies were sitting atop the rubble. 

The Eldest Brother’s army had been captured, their punished was severe- sentenced to be mummified alive. Their screams echoed through the halls as the embalmers worked. Those with the strongest wills guarded the doors and dragged any man that somehow managed to escape the room, back. 

Pharaoh Ata- renamed “One for All”- had been buried, his body given every courtesy and care was given in his wrapping. 

As for Pharaoh Chike- renamed “All for One” his fate had been less fortunate. Though they had begun the same courtesy, had found that All for One was still alive though mortally wounded his face distorted with scarring. The process had already begun to remove his internal organs and his intestines were already partially removed:

“We tell no one.”

“We’re not honestly going to keep going?”

“Would you like to know what he would do to us if he recovers? If he goes on to rule? You saw what he did to the Palace.” 

“Gods have mercy on us… let us continue.” 

To ensure their own safety, the embalmers and craftsman involved with All for One’s burial crafted a sarcophagus that would seal the Eldest brother in for all eternity. Every spell was employed and unwittingly the body within had a second chance at life should the seal be broken, his influence could be felt for decades after his death as the burial site would be drained of all life that stepped foot there. There was hope when the sands settled and no more life was claimed in All for One’s desperate attempt at escape. 

To ensure the cursed tomb would do no more harm to life in Egypt; the remaining Medjay swore an oath to keep travelers well away from trying to unearth what horrors lay within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to find me on other sites- [I'm on Twitter](https://twitter.com/TribbleBean) I'm in the process of making a fandom account for myself so the link and Twitter handle are subject to change as I get my shit together (please note my presence is not the greatest as I'm also trying to get my shit together with my art as well)
> 
> I am a sucker for going on Name sites and tinkering around. 
> 
> [Chike: Power of God](https://www.babble.com/baby-names/baby-boy-names/meaning-of-chike/)
> 
> [Ata: Twin](https://www.babble.com/baby-names/baby-boy-names/meaning-of-ata/)
> 
> If anyone is curious why I chose the names I did: I figured since All for One was firstborn with a powerful Quirk- they of course go with a more impressive meaning. 
> 
> As for One for All? Well, he’s the Quirkless Spare who cares about him?


	2. Chapter 1: City of the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much that have shown interest in my little pet project. :D
> 
> I'm getting back to the swing of things and it's a slow and steady build.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Blood, Gore

The City of the Dead 1920- 4000 years later

They had arrived to the fabled City the day previous and nothing seemed wrong at first (Upon reflection- it had gone tits up immediately after someone thought it was: “A good idea”). Toshinori had spotted a row of men perched upon a high cliff some distance away. Sitting silently. At first, he thought they were statues. Until, one of the horses shook its head, the rider patting the beast’s neck to soothe it. His attempt at smiling had faded once more, and the Foreign Legion he has signed up with had taken note of it. 

Typically seen with a charismatic smile on his face, Toshinori Yagi was second in command (Most wished he was in charge- he had the better strategies). He met foes with a smile, never flinching as he mowed down enemy after enemy, which was impressive for a man with no Quirk to speak of. He seemed almost fearless until now. The smile fell right off of his face when they arrived and had yet to reappear. 

The air here was… brittle in a sense, like winter air after a too-deep inhale, mixed with the zest of lightning and predatory blood thirst. In every way- Toshinori Yagi fucking hated this place and he wanted to shove his companion, one David Shield, into the nearest rucksack and run until real civilization was reached. 

Nevermind the fact that a good chunk of the men were spooked when they got too close to a certain area of the sacred grounds. Toshinori had only heard about it after night fell and dinner was being rationed out as the man raised their voices in concern. He had eyed the grounds as a thin fog seemed to settle there as if trying to lure someone close. 

His orders were simple: “No one goes near that spot, it looks like a trap.” 

Usually these men obeyed him right down to the final letter. Tonight however? There was one man that kept staring, and would be drawn in. A rat faced looking son of a bitch and was about as brave as the General (which was to say- not at all).

Toshinori had settled in with a blanket, he sat up against a pillar to sleep not wanting to take a risk in putting his head on the sand here. 

David Shield stood over him, “What are you thinking, Tex?” 

“We shouldn’t be here and we should get out while we still can.”

“You feel it too?” 

Toshinori’s electric blue eye cracked open, and he looked towards their General, “He looks ready to snap.” 

“Doesn’t he always?” David asked. 

“Yes, but don’t tell him that, civilian or not, he’d still shoot you for the cheek of it.” 

David snorted, “You’d have him down before he could get his hand on the pistol. Besides he wanted an expert on this trek it would do him no good if I was dead.”

Toshinori gave a soft laugh, “Perhaps.” 

The two fell into an uneasy silence. David yawned settling in close, “Sleeping with a gun in your hand?” 

“Yeah.” 

With that an uneasy sleep fell over the campsite. It wasn’t until the fires burned out and the first pinks of dawn began to kiss the sky did the coward soldier wake. His eyes glassy and his mouth agape. He got up and walked like a puppet towards the misty areas. He stepped into the thick of the fog. 

Then screamed. Waking the whole camp. 

Toshinori was up first rushing forward almost blindly, cocking his guns pointing at the terrified wailing. The mist from before had grown strong enough to lift the soldier up. Toshinori froze his sleep addled mind woke to the horror of watching some malevolent force suck any liquid within the soldier into the sands below. Leaving a dried out shell to drop to the sand and shatter into dust.

Everyone had enough at this point and packed up making to leave. Not realizing that in the process of one night, they had been surrounded. 

The General mounted up, “We’re fighting our way out of here…”

“You know, a white flag on a stick might work wonders.” Toshinori growled, “We got the point, they want us to leave, we want to leave, raise a flag in surrender we talk it out, we apologize and go.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Yagi, arm up.” 

This motherfucker was going to get everyone killed… But, orders were orders even if they were stupid ones. “Sir…” Toshinori snarled.

Toshinori was a hulking man in his prime towering over the vast majority of his outfit. But today? Today he was trying it the General’s way. Hiding, behind an eroded wall of some forgotten Legendary City with treasure hungry comrades that all of a sudden wanted to leave. 

BUT OH NO. 

They had to be under attack by some very upset locals armed to the teeth with every sort of weapon and Quirk imaginable no doubt.

He had to double himself over to be able to crouch behind the wall leveling his rifle, patiently awaiting orders.

He could hear the galloping hooves of his Commander checking the front lines, the thought of ‘soon’ crossing his mind. It wasn’t until he heard the horse veer off in retreat did he look over his shoulder. Watching his Commander chucking his saber to the side as he urged the stallion faster up the sandstone ramp and out of sight. Never had the temptation to shoot a man in the back been so alluring. 

His companion, David, checked as well, his eyebrows disappearing into his auburn fringe. Not knowing what else to say, he looked to Toshinori with a an attempt at humour, “You’ve been promoted…” 

“Did anyone else see?” Toshinori checked the line. 

“I think everyone is glued to their spot.” David nodded his head towards the fast advancing army. To David, the swarm of men on camel and horseback made it look like a plague of locust. 

Toshinori sighed his broad shoulders moving in a hard jerking motion, “READY WEAPONS! READY QUIRKS!” No show to put on, no smile, just try and survive this and fuck off. It was far beyond the point of no return. 

David readied his weapon, why a researcher and man of languages willingly put himself here--- wait!

“David not knocking your aim, but if you want to be the civilian again and go for safer ground I won’t stop you.” Toshinori whispered before bellowing out: “STEADY!”

“What safer ground?” David snorted, “I’m staying put thank you _very much_.” 

“Suit yourself and don’t complain that I didn’t give you the option later.” Toshinori finished with his banter, focusing on the fast approaching army. “FIRE!” 

Chaos erupted, men, horses, camels all dropped. The sounds of bullets leaving barrels, and various Quirks activating added to the roar of the battle field. Fire was returned and the first bodies dropped. 

David got a few lucky shots, he went in to reload, Toshinori grabbed his collar and yanked him back, “I’ll cover you. They’re coming over the wall!” 

Toshinori ran backwards as men fled buying time as David ran as fast as he could. He watched as one man with a fire Quirk get slashed in half by a sword as a horseman came over the wall. Toshinori shot him off the saddle. 

Men dropped and bullets from all sides plucked men off. Toshinori felt the burning heat of a bullet slice through his shirt and the meat of his shoulder. He kept firing until he emptied the cartridges, used his rifle as a club to beat a man off of his mount the force of it shattering the man’s skull. He chucked it aside afterwards. He went for his sidearms and checked the chambers as he ran. 

He had to put them to use immediately, aiming for vital organs or the head as more riders swarmed the area. 

Then, canon fire and explosions were heard after his side arms clicked empty. He had no time to reload; he stowed them away and ran. 

David was a little ways ahead of him at this point. Toshinori called to him, “They’ve got a canon quirk or something of the like with them. We hitch a ride and get out of this city!” 

Both men changed course when a projectile went overhead and collided with the ground up ahead making a massive pit and going off again in a secondary explosion that sent dust and sand flying into the air. 

“What makes you think that will make them stop!?” David asked trying to keep up to Toshinori’s long legged gait as he fell behind.

“Our woes began when we got here! They just want us to leave!” Toshinori was sure of it.

“I don’t think so!” 

“BE A BIT OPTIMISTIC PLEASE.” Toshinori yelled over the growing din. He reached back propelling David in front of him, “For now we get inside!” 

“EXPLOSION QUIRK.” David pointed out. He then yelped as Toshisnori continued to run with his collar in hand as if he were a kitten in mother cat’s jaws. 

“They tire easy! If we keep going we drop from heat exhaustion! IN YOU GO!” With that Toshinori threw the researcher into the cool shadows of an ancient doorway, it looked to have a door and with luck- stairs. From the pit that was a few hundred yards away there was definitely another level. They’d out fox them this way and when night fell they’d make a break for it. 

Coming to this place was a very, bad idea, but he met David and really? That was good enough. 

David landed on his feet and spun around. David’s eyes narrowed and he looked over his massive friend’s shoulder. 

Time for Toshinori slowed. The explosive passing by his cheek and striking the doorway. The deafening, blinding explosion that followed came in an obscene clarity. A large chunk of debris flying towards him, impaling him in his left side. He tried to scream but nothing but blood flew out of his mouth as he flew backwards. He hit the sand and continued tumbling. The piece that had been lodged into his body broke free as he rolled as if his seven foot two frame weighed nothing. 

His final thought was as he fell into the pit that was made earlier was simple: ‘I’m sorry, David.’ His eyes closed as he let his body drop. 

Pain continued to torment him moments later.

If death was nothing but pain he wanted his fucking money back. He raggedly drew in a gulp of air, his lungs burning. A shuttering cough left his throat, more blood spurted free. If he was alive, he’d like to be dead and soon please, thank you kindly. His head dropped resting on something, that smelt of must, but there was also an incense quality within the musty smell. He forced his eyes, still unfocused to open. 

He saw skin, pulled tightly over a cheekbone which had blackened with age. Fear couldn’t be conjured up at all. He tried to get his body to move. Another sharp gasping inhale. For a moment he could breathe without pain, and his veins felt alive with something golden, glittering and pure. He felt himself get up in the surge of power that flowed free within him sealing the wound to a certain extent leaving a twisted gnarled macabre sunflower scar in its wake. He stood next to the sarcophagus, wobbling as he tried to make the world stop spinning. Toshinori let out a soft “Oh…” made to take a step forward, and fell face first into the sand. 

Above him two men argued, “You need more control! Attacking the way you did! Disobeying a direct order! Look what you’ve done! One of the brothers was disturbed! IT COULD HAVE BEEN THE OTHER ONE. To camp with you!” 

“Sir… what of this one?” Another voice dared speak.

“He cannot stay here.” The dark figure said releasing the cloth around his neck sending several strands of the silvery material down into the crypt. “That is all I know, we get one of the Brothers in Cairo… he’ll know how to fix One for All’s resting space, or rather- pray he does.” 

Another tendril of cloth looped around a pillar and the figure began to ease the intruder up and out. “Fetch me a Camel this brute will kill a horse.” Sweat began to gather on the dark haired man’s brow. 

Toshinori began to come around, barely aware he was alive. His eyes swam in their sockets as he looked to a saddle, the saddle blankets, to the sand, to the sky, then, finally found a dark mass. He focused on the boots, then wild wavy hair… then….bandages? Waving around like angry ribbons. His neck lost the ability to hold his head up. He forced muscles and tendons to lift his head back up. Studying a grim looking figure. Skin pale despite being cooked alive under the unforgiving sun. The hint of the rest of their face disappeared as bandages whirled back into place on their owner’s shoulders. Their eyes, were so…. 

Sad… 

Haunting in their own way, he reached for them. He gave a drunken toothy smile, “Gorgeous…” he went to remove the coverings on the person’s face, wanting to know the rest of this face. His thumb merely brushed the bandages that sat near their cheek-

His face was then enveloped in brillant pain and his body went lax from the shock. The noise of a camel groaning was faint and far away. 

*

It was time to leave, and take up positions again to guard the area surrounding the City. He got up onto his steed and settled his weight and sighed tiredly when a fellow Medjay came up to him:

“Commander? What of the bodies?”

With an open hand, Commander Shouta slapped the camel’s rear urging the beast forward, “Gather our brethren. As for the rest…” an apathetic shrug, “Vultures and Jackals are always hungry.” The man shook his hand out his wrists still burning from pulling up such a deadweight. 

“What of the one you sent off?”

“Let the desert claim him....”

“The camel?” 

“The bindings are loose should he drop he won’t be stuck to it. If he manages to get back? Let his own people deal with him.” 

“Yessir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed take care all! See you soon with Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 2: The Orphans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not posting sooner! But I'm here now and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I stalled out during the editing process. I may have missed some stuff and I’ll fix what I can. But for now enjoy my meager offerings.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Gory flashbacks, depression, threats of violence with an egg sandwich

_Blood staining sand, and the sound of pained moaning. Hands, too many hands pushing him down, pinning him into place as surgeons worked. Another broken scream tried to break free from his throat. He can almost register the pain as needles passed into and out of his flesh. His throat pinching shut, his head thrashing so hard he cracks his skull against… something and a hand jerks away. He’s almost free, he’s almost free. Sand invades the surgery room morphing the scene from one memory, one trauma to another, and he’s watching in startling clarity the sands suck a soldier dry, the poor wretches body is a skeleton in no time. He had managed to get to the body, which had changed into the mangled form of David Shield._

Toshinori’s eyes open as he sucks in a lung full of air. He’s staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling. The ceiling fan squeaking faintly as it rotated. ‘My name is Toshinori Yagi- it’s…. It’s….’ he can never remember the year after one of these attacks so he moves on, ‘I’m in Cairo…’ right? Yes Cario, ‘I moved in with my brother after I was released from a civilian hospital.’ 

Hospital! Hospital… he begins sinking into someplace he didn’t want to be- dark, stagnant and bloody. Panic was setting into his chest, constricting his heart near to bursting. He flung the sweat damp sheet off of himself sitting up, dizziness nearly sends him crashing to the floor but he catches himself. If he moves it’ll get better. He breathes sharply and his eyes close. ‘My name is Toshinori Yagi, it’s 1923, I survived hell and I’m a librarian.’ 

Toshinori’s joints creek along with the bed as he attempts to get up one more time. Some days he doesn’t feel so stiff, or so old, or as soul weary. After a bad night, he usually feels somewhere in the realm of 110 years old, frail, and without two brain cells to rub together. He staggers along his bedroom finding the traction he needs, his feet clumsy on the floor. He tries to be mindful of his brother and the other tenants in the building as he mentally apologizes to each person as he bumbles along.

At last he makes it to his window. He counts it as a minor victory before he shoves the shutters open, taking a deep inhale of morning air, still crisp and cool. The sun starting to peak over the buildings farther down in the city. He settles on the windowsill, sitting there, staring out almost unblinkingly. 

His eyes closing briefly as the loudspeakers buzz to life and the Call to Prayer begins. Toshinori can almost fall back asleep, lulled into it from the sweet voice pouring out of battered tinny speakers. It’s enough, his slim shoulders slump and his head goes back. He stays like that baking under the rising desert sun. 

It wasn’t until he was jabbed in the shoulder some time later, when Toshinori moves. He’s startled, his unseeing eyes are blurry and unfocused. He feels trapped and his hands move, lashing out. He shoots his palm forward, he hears a brittle cracking noise and a startled high pitched noise that pinches itself off as soon as it begins to reach a painful volume. 

His blue eyes all but roll back into place, his brother, Hizashi Yamada is there shaking with a white knuckled grip on a broom.

Or, what’s left of it. Jagged edges remain, it doesn’t look like they can repair it this time. Toshinori grimaces, disgusted with himself, turning his face away from Hizashi. 

Hizashi had learned the hard way not to shake Toshinori awake. Almost four months in a sling to deal with the break he sustained. Toshinori, was so guilt ridden he was still in the process of forgiving himself. 

“Rough night?” Hizashi tries licking pale lips, his green eyes betraying the fear he feels despite his attempted calm voice, “Need to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” came a monotone reply.

Hizashi, “Mic”, sucks his teeth, “You’re going to have to open up at some point you lug. It can’t be healthy to bottle this sort of…” he gestured waving the shattered broom around with one arm now, “whatever it is.” 

“I’m sorry.” Toshinori looks at him then. 

“You’re always fucking sorry! Stop apologizing and speak to me!”

The taller man wanted nothing to do with this sort of conversation, “I’m taking a shower.” hei grumbles staggering past Mic patting him gently on the shoulder. 

Mic jerks his shoulder away, his foot tapping. He’s grumbling, making no secret he’s upset. “Stubborn piece of!” 

Toshinori doesn’t raise to take the bait as he shuffles along. He can usually walk better than this, but this morning his legs might as well be made of lead. He gets into the bathroom and leans against the porcelain sink.

He’s a shit brother, he knew that much. Toshinori was nearly at the ‘kick them out into society’ age when Hizashi came in. He took to the loud little thing taking care of him in a way the nuns hadn't bothered with. They sort of became a packaged deal, which one lone woman found endearing enough to adopt the both of them on the spot. It had been a good run for a few years. Toshinori gave the sink a hard squeeze willing himself to stop thinking. He promised to look after Mic, so he sent his money home from the armed services to keep his artist brother stocked with food and a roof over his head. It had worked for the most part he felt. Mom would have been happy with that.

Both of them were having a hard time with the whole “living” thing. Toshinori, having barely survived his stint in the military and not really handling the transition back into civilian life well. Then there was Hizashi--- who was struggling to sell any paintings at all on street corners, and had taken up mulling paints to help pay for his half of rent. But even at a brief glance, Toshinori could see a depressive snap coming in. He’d do better, he had to. He straightened himself out. 

Toshinori slid the lock into place, staring at himself in a mirror. He often times didn’t recognize himself. He often wondered how Hizashi recognized him. ‘It’s the eyes.’ The eyes? He stared at the shade of blue that shot through the darkness of his sclera and the sunken orbits that made his whole face look too sharp. He leaned his large gnarled hands on the sink again, leaning forward. His nightshirt shifting, and he could see his skin being pulled taught over his bones. 

He could eat…

Sometimes. 

His injuries were extensive, amazed at how lucky he was to have a portion of his stomach still. Doctors wishing to study him like a lab rat. Wondering how he was able to keep going despite having so much damage done. He had given a gruff “Stubborn will to live” and slammed the door in their faces. Toshinori felt it had been wise to keep what happened to him at Hamunaptra a secret.

He chased that glittering force that was pulsing within him. He smiled, that made the golden light within surface easier and in an instant he was staring at himself before his near death experience. He gave a slow sigh, glad to see himself like this again. He much preferred not looking like a human skeleton, or unwrapped mummy. It would be nice to walk through the streets of Cairo as a strapping fairly young looking thing. Just to feel handsome for just a little while. Maybe he could use this new Quirk of his to shift around and organize the library properly. 

With a heavy sigh and a puff of smoke, he was back in the body he was starting to get used too. No. It would raise too many eyebrows, make too many people question what had happened to “Awkward puppy Toshi”. His hair frizzed back out as well and he turned heel and took a shower. Putting his temptation, once again, off to the side. If he were still in service? Sure. Why not? 

But it was too little too late to be granted this gift. Having tested what all this was when Hizashi was out, or, if he couldn’t sleep he’d ‘train’. Zipping around Cairo, or hopping around, lifting incredible weights making himself feel useful. Which was the greatest feeling of all- being useful, not just wheeling a squeaky cart through the silent halls of a library. 

He spends too long in the shower again. Sunk into his mind staring at one of the tiles that is utterly fascinating with the thin crack in the glaze. Honestly, it’s not that interesting but it is a nice focal point. 

Toshinori is still ruffling the remaining water out of his hair, but he’s dressed now. He’s more settled and grounded in his rickety feeling body the shower sorting his balance issues. He finds his brother on the floor, his legs spread out in a semi split as he toils over his work: a marred glass panel set on an old stained tea towel and a glass candlestick acting as a cheap and easy paint muller. He’s focused in on his task swirling in a rhythmic figure eight motion. 

Toshinori paused to watch Hizashi work, his face covered in a bandanna as he mulled a pinky-purple shade. Genuinely curious, he started speaking, “What’s the flavour of the day?”

Mic looked up his green eyes almost surprised to see him. “Mauve.” he chirps going back to his work. That wasn’t the boisterous personality he knew. Which just confirms the ‘he’s going to go into a downswing’ feeling. 

Toshinori’s nose crinkled at the name, it didn’t suit the charming colour. He nodded, “You seem down.” He spares a glance at the coffee table, and he spots an uneaten egg sandwich and his barely-there stomach lurches.

“I’ve been rejected again.” Mic stopped his mulling as he sat up, stretching his thin arms above his head, “Apparently, I’m not ‘classical’ enough. Last time, I wasn’t modern enough…” his arms dropped with a thud onto his lap. “No one is interested in my paintings on the street, the best I can do is sell some pre-made paint palettes to tourists that forgot their kit at home. It’s only a matter of time before the matron that runs the paint store comes after me with a cudgel.” 

Toshinori pads over to him, “Hey, they’ll wake up sooner or later. Plus, I wouldn’t worry too much about her- she finds you charming with the added bonus you can actually speak loud enough for her to hear.” 

Mic laughed a little, “Fair. But that’s not the only thing bothering me. You’re shut up tighter than a clam. I’m worried about you and I want to help. You did it for me at the orphanage but why won’t you let me return the favour?”

“I’m… Not fine… but I can’t articulate what happened. Half the time I think I’m going mad. Sometimes it just feels like a bad nightmare then I see.” Toshinori gestured at his person, “This.” 

“I’m sorry…”

“I don’t miss my looks well I do... sometimes... but mainly I miss being useful.”

Hizashi opened his mouth then paused, what the hell was his definition of ‘useful’? He felt a large hand pat him on the head and ruffle his hair. Hizashi cringed. He looked over at the table seeing a lone sandwich still perched on a plate. 

No, not again. Mic shot up to his feet, stomped across the floor and flung open wooden shutters and inhaled. 

Toshinori had felt he had gotten away, without having to try and eat something he couldn’t fully get down. It wasn’t Hizashi’s cooking. He just couldn’t eat the--

“TOSHINORI GET YOUR FUCKING EGG SANDWICH BEFORE I SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!” 

The neighborhood began to shake and a crack formed in one of the apartments across the street from the blast. Maybe… He should have just taken the sandwich?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!


	4. Chapter 3: The Medjay and the Librarian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay... This chapter decided it wanted to be long. So have a nice long chapter of 4000+ words. orz
> 
> Man this was a pain to edit. This is the best I can do.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: None

Shouta hadn’t seen this much of civilization in years. He had gotten used to the encampment that slowly circled the Forbidden City like the slowest pack of wolves. For the most part, it felt more like a silent vigil over a monster everyone should be glad wasn’t moving around. Then things would happen, foolish treasure seekers, or, armies that needed to be shooed away. The increased rate of interlopers had him concerned. Thankfully, the Beast buried there had not escaped, despite somehow managing to feed. 

Shouta grimaced as he reflected on that night, he had wished his brothers had obeyed orders and let the soldiers go after the incident, the message had been received. Shouta could also understand the boredom from his brothers as well. In the end, Shouta felt it was a lose-lose situation.

The Creature feeding however. Oh, that couldn’t be good. Could it revive itself? Shouta shivered shoving his face deep into his layered capture weapon his pace picking up. He had questions, and there was only two sources he trusted most, both, were thankfully in the same spot. 

But first, he indulged himself in some heavily spiced street food, lamb he was almost certain.

“Sir… were you attacked?” The vendor asked, eyeing Shouta’s haggard look, his black robes were filled with slash marks, burns, possibly a few bites from desert predators? Then the mystery stains: Preserved fruit or blood?

“No, this is just what I look like.” Shouta said bluntly. 

The vendor fetched another skewer, “On the house.”

Shouta let out a surprised pleased noise, paid, bowed his head before slipping into the crowd. Nibbling on morsels of tender charred meat. Dark eyes roving around the expanding skyline. 

The Cairo he knew was changing before him. He hadn’t seen Cairo since receiving his tattoo marking him as Medjay, though they broke the usual tradition with him. His markings were placed in his inner wrist. Which was usually an indication of his potential to succeed if, and or, when Superior retired or was killed in the line of duty. 

To this day he was unsure he couldn’t see himself handling the bureaucracy and elbow rubbing that came with running a museum. What made them think he could take on such a role? He was trained in handling any weapon he could get his hands (or his capture weapon) on. He was well educated possibly beyond most means in normal society which would help deal with noisy patrons. The catch was: he had no intentions of willingly rejoining this section of society if he could help it.

He was drafted into the society of the Medjay, his Quirk was too useful to the cause. The potential that Erasure could cancel some of the Creature’s power. 

His parents were… Eager to hand him over to the Medjay. He just hoped they got a good price for handing him over. He didn’t miss them, he didn’t recall every crying over them. Perhaps the feeling was mutual? He had enjoyed his training, finding the society rewarding enough to suit him.

He had been given all information. More than once. At this point, Shouta needed finer details, or the details that slipped through the cracks. Elder was good about finer details plus slipping through the cracks. Deep in his bones, he felt something was going to happen, and the beast would be released. 

He gave a weary sigh finishing off the last of his skewers, closed his eyes trying to will a few tears to ease his dry eyes. With no luck. While he was here, he might as well stock up on eye drops, he could never have enough of them it seemed. For now, he had to meet with Elder Nezu. Then wreck his eyes more in dim light and tiny font sizes. 

He was ready to be called ‘paranoid’, but the unasked ‘what if’ the Beast was revived. What then? What was the game plan? How _bad_ of an apocalypse were they dealing with? Yes, there is a scale, thank you. 

He made his way into the still dark halls of the museum. His boots barely making any sound as he moved through the labyrinth towards the library, a little ways beyond that the Curator’s Office. He knocked tapping out a patterned code that made the door swing open.

“Ah, Aizawa good to see you again. Tea?”

Shouta considered it, pouting into his capture weapon he kept about his neck. Lifted his head, “Yes please, Sir, if I may ask for some of your time? There’s some questions I need to ask.”

Beady eyes lit up, “Of course. I thought you’d be coming here to ask. That’s why I chose you as my replacement.” White paws pressed together, Shouta figured it was Nezu’s attempt at lacing his fingers together, “What questions do you have?”

“The Creature… I saw it suck a man dry.” 

“Ah yes, the Creature is connected to the sands of the City of the Dead. After so many centuries laying in wait there. But his powers are weak. He can only lure the weak of mind or weak of body. It’s not enough to revive the Creature, but enough to draw itself back into its body to try and test his tomb for weak spots again. It lasts perhaps an hour or two. But nothing else.” Nezu said, filling an earthenware teapot with hot water. 

Somehow, that really didn’t put Shouta’s mind at ease. He bowed his head to hide his concern. His bangs covering dark eyes. For now, he was satisfied (enough) with the answer, so moved on:

“What news of the damaged crypt? I know we had a team go in briefly.” 

 

“We’ve repaired what we could, but the Pharaoh was smashed. It’s a shame, but what was slumbering in his sarcophagus is gone. The one thing that can put the Creature down and out for good.” 

Shouta instantly thought some sort of weapon had been destroyed, or possibly worse, stolen. “Then…” he went pale at the implication.

“We haven’t much to worry about. I’m sure if the Creature should be resurrected, we will have help when we need it most.” 

Shouta then looked confused, trying to catch Nezu’s eyes, but the ermine (?) had closed his eyes to take the last pull from his tea cup from the last batch of tea he made. “I don’t follow.” Shouta admitted.

“The first survivor. You remember him correct?”

“The one that was impaled or the one with the shattered spine?”

“You mean the one that called you gorgeous? Yes.”

“TCH!” Shouta burrowed into the loose bindings feeling his face heat, his next question was fat on his tongue. Nezu knew how to make him stop asking questions especially when he didn’t want to reveal his cards too soon. 

“Don’t suck your teeth at me, tying him to a camel like that… it was such a pain getting him into the hospital.” 

“My apologies sir…”

“You should have sensed it, but if you don’t know what to feel for yet so I will have to give you a pass.”

“What am I supposed to feel for?” Shouta asked snapping at his superior. 

“Bright.” Nezu said simply his tone also denoting a sense of ‘figure it out your damn self’.

“That really doesn’t help at all.” Shouta hissed his frustration.

Nezu shrugged let the temper flare on his underling slide this time. He had been holding information back, but not at the same time. He had the same fears before he took on his role as “Secret Keeper”. The hush, hush nature of the Medjay’s ranks were… frustrating. But honestly Nezu himself had only felt a brief hint of One for All when it was settling into its new owner. 

“You’ll need some books that will help you out. “Ancient Quirk Theory.” Dr. Annabelle Yule and “Wars in Ancient Egypt” Dr. Tim Brewer- section on “Civil War”. It’s not the whole picture, but it will get some of your answers, I can fill in the details after a better base for you.” Nezu supplied, “We can only allow so much to be out and about. There is however some fun speculations on Hamunaptra it’s good for the giggles. A few vows to find it but it’s author embellishments before you go off to string hapless bookworm Egyptologists up by their knickers.” 

Shouta scrambled to borrow Nezu’s pen and notepad writing down book titles. He opened his mouth to defend himself. Only to be cut short by a gentle tapping. Shouta’s shoulders locking having not heard anyone come in.

“Sir! O-Oh… you have company…. ah-- sir sorry I’m late!” The voice was raspy, a little tired and then fell damn near into inaudible whispers. 

Nezu wove him off, “No worries Mr. Yagi, you’re still here before most academics, though, if you would.” He snapped the paper that was still under Shouta’s hand, and was handing the paper to him, “If you would have these titles at one of the tables please?”

Shouta looked over at his superior, his mouth going dry. Expecting a wheezy, hunch backed little old man with failing lungs. Not, not a blond palm tree. Hair fluffing out in a ‘I got struck by lightning since I’m the tallest damn thing in Egypt’ sort of way. He didn’t look like he had a soft edge on him anywhere, all sharp angles. The man didn’t look real, which just made this “Mr. Yagi” rather, intriguing for the enigma factor. Dressed in simple colours, a white button down shirt that was already rolled up on thin knobby elbows, a plain grey pinstripe waistcoat and slacks with high polished leather shoes. He shouldn’t be handsome, he shouldn’t-

It wasn’t until Mr. Yagi fetched out a pair of narrow glasses, and perched them on a straight nose to study the titles then and there the thought died where it was in Shouta’s mind. Shouta’s gaze training themselves on Mr. Yagi’s lips pushing into a pout as he translated the hasty scrawl. “Right away. I’ve some shelving to do, I do apologize in advance for the squeaky wheel Mr…?”

Shouta blinked his eyes going wide as his brain failed to make any sort of concerted effort to communicate. 

“Aizawa.” Nezu supplied noticing the slow escape of air through Shouta’s slightly agape mouth. Bless the boy, he tried. He failed, but he tried. Oh dear was he drooling? Well that happens to the best of us.

Toshinori merely nodded slowly, looking to Shouta over his glasses giving a blink before giving a smile, “Won’t be long Mr. Aizawa, your books will be at the first table.” He nodded his head curtly before leaving. 

Nezu was back to his usual seat in no time, “What do you think?”

“He is his own lightning rod?” 

“Anything else?” Nezu pushed gently.

He DID have curves and they were all confined to his pinstriped rear? He looks twenty years younger smiling? Glasses should be outlawed? He opted for silence instead. 

“Ah well why don’t you get to know him? You’ll need to get along.”

“Why?” Shouta asked.

“Reasons.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Shouta admitted, wondering what Nezu’s scheme was this time. 

Nezu gave a toothy smile and a less-than-sane chuckle, “Trust me. It’ll be best for you both to get along.” 

Shouta wished he didn’t have to in this moment, but bowed his head, “Yessir, thank you for the tea, sir.” with that he went out in the main hall of the library, he kept his step light and quiet looking around. 

Toshinori had paused from his work to study the man. There was something familiar about this man. But he didn’t know what. That alone bothered the librarian. His memory fogging over as he demanded to know where he knew this man’s face from. A wanted list? No...

Rugged, sleep deprived, clad in all black. He had to be insane- with this sort of heat on a daily basis how had he NOT died? Underneath the layers upon layers of fabric, he could tell the man was well built, his gait was more suited for assassinations than scholarly work. Dark eyes forever scanning his surroundings. Toshinori, distrusted this man’s intentions entirely, he’d check on his Boss if only to make sure he had job security.

Dark eyes locked on him, now, Toshinori could really get a good look at those eyes and size this man up. There was a tint of maroon that was glittering within the iris. Was that an indication of his Quirk? The dark eyes narrowed in a brief squint. Then the man’s face relaxed which set Toshinori even more on edge. He found himself walking in a slow deliberate gait. If this man was a regular now- he’d be sneaking his side arm in. This “Mr. Aizawa” followed suit his sleepy half lidded eyes betraying nothing which made the dark haired man all the scarier. 

The two men circled each other with the same air of sharks circling the last bite of food before all hell broke loose again. Shouta paused first, shoving his hands into deep pockets and sighed, “If you don’t want to get my books just tell me.”

“What?” Out of all the sentences, insults and phrases that was the last damn thing Toshinori expected.

“I’m in no mood to fritter my precious time away so you can try and have a nice “High Noon” showdown. This is Egypt not America.” Shouta leaned his head back to make eye contact again, “Good moves on your part, I was almost convinced you could have handled the beat down.”

Well shit! 

“Aren’t you charming...” Toshinori snarled, putting his hands on his hips all the while still clutching the two books he managed to locate already in one massive hand. 

“As far as I’m concerned, you started it.” Shouta put his hand out, “I’ll take those and the paper back; I’ll fetch the rest.”

“It’s my job.”

“And as the charming bastard I am I’d like to fetch my own books.” 

Nezu came out, “Are you two getting along out here it’s awfully loud for a library~”

“YES!” Toshinori and Shouta bellowed in unison both glaring at each other.

“I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to research what I need to and leave.” Shouta gave his fingers a loose “give them to me!” Gesture. 

Toshinori wasn’t gentle when he slapped the books into the man’s gloved palm. “As you wish, sir.”

Shouta watched Toshinori side step away from him, clearly not trusting to leave his back exposed. It was a smooth effortless glide. Shouta’s eyes narrowed, wondering what this man’s story was. Yagi moved like an old warrior, so, he was here in retirement with a hair pin trigger temper in a library? What was Nezu thinking? What about that mousy little brunette woman with the glasses almost twice the size of her face? It didn’t matter at the end of the day.

He grabbed his final book and settled in with his studies. Unable to relax for a moment. He exhaled an easy breath, easing the book open starting his research. 

 

He was fairly aware of Mr. Yagi shelving his carts of books by the squeaking wheels and the faint murmur in a relaxing timber. “Seth…. Volume one.. Volume two…. Tu…. hmm….” 

Toshinori was up on a ladder, he was quietly thankful that Mr. Aizawa wasn’t a talkative sort, most patrons at the library tended to tease him with the tired joke of “I didn’t know giants used ladders” or some such. He cooed out a few titles, slid them home before frowning at a title that belonged on the _other side_ of the aisle. Surely he could reach from here? His arms were long enough. He leaned back slowly stretching his arm out. The tip of his tongue poking out as he reached. He got it safely to the otherside, and pushed the book home. Just… a bit… more, because, of course the aisles were spaced far apart enough to be annoying. 

The ladder creaked as he continued his leaning, the groan of the wood let him know he had, maybe, misjudged the distance between the shelves and his overall length. He had his palm resting on the bookshelf he was reaching for but he hadn’t noticed the fact that the ladder was now completely straight. Toshinori wrinkled his nose as an over the top circus announcer came to mind: ‘Come see the seven foot tall giant balancing on the top of a ladder! All because he didn’t have that half inch extra on his arm! See him figure out how not to wreck his library or his face in trying to get down! Penny a view!’ 

Tap TAP TAP Toshinori stilled himself on the ladder. Unsure exactly how he was managing to balance the ladder outside of raw unfiltered luck. He thought briefly for calling for help. He looked over seeing the dark haired man sitting, whatever he was reading seemed to have set the man on edge. Mr. Aizawa’s leg was bouncing under the table, dark eyes pinned to the book before him unseeing, unhearing. So no luck there. Plus did he really want it? No. 

It was his face, simply jumping down,or risk one of the shelves, activate his new Quirk and hope, just, hope he was fast enough to stop the shelf from falling over. He eyed the shelf he had previously been at. Curiosity got the better of him. How fast was he with this Quirk?

‘Balls to the wall gentleman.’ He thought pushing off the shelf and letting the ladder crack against the solid oak piece. 

Toshinori set his teeth, cringing at the sound. He let go of the ladder, feeling himself swell in strength. He hit the ground, got around, his hands catching the shelf with a dull thud. He stabilized it in moments before popping back into his usual size. 

How his clothes survived the onslaught he wasn’t sure. He was damn thankful for it in the long run. He hummed softly feeling dark eyes boring into him. 

Shouta didn’t have enough time to register what had happened. The crashing sound alone made him worried. He looked up, seeing Yagi demure as ever with a small waft of smoke still clinging to his lithe frame.

Where had that smoke come from? 

Shouta shivered involuntarily, there had been a sort of- energy spike? He stole a few more glances at the librarian then settled back to his reading. Though he was keeping closer tabs on the librarian now. 

No other incident happened save for Nezu coming out and tapping his foot at Yagi for making such a ruckus. It made Shouta smile behind his scarf. 

 

It wasn’t thirty minutes later when a chorus of: “Toshi~ Toshi Toshi Toshi!” hit both men’s ears. 

“SHH!” Toshinori shushed, “this is a library.” He pointed out Shouta, who was grimacing at this point.

“Oh someone is actually in here instead of trying to plan out how to steal some gold jewelry… My bad. Lunch time and some news!” he had found treasure! Okay, maybe it had fallen out of an archaeologist's pocket and Hizashi just so happened to snap it up, shove it into his pocket before anyone was the wiser, but, that was not that’s besides the point! (He wouldn't tell Toshinori that detail either.)

Toshinori’s remaining section of stomach lurched, hoping for something mild and non greasy. “Oh…. it is?” 

Hizashi thumped the brown paper bag into his chest. Causing a concerning cough to bubble up his throat, the familiar tang of iron caressing his tongue, Toshi swallowed. Then looked to his brother, who was now bugging the living hell out of the mystery man. “Finish up we’re taking lunch soon.” 

Toshinori swallowed, dreading having to eat. He did note that ‘Zashi was in better spirits today. He seemed happy, like a puppy about to play. It was so nice to see Hizashi saunter up to someone, throw his arm casually around their shoulders to blather into their ear. That was his brother, the type to go up to a random man that looked like some sort of assassin and try and make friends. 

“Whatcha doin?” Hizashi asked.

Shouta was staring at the hand that had found itself on his shoulders. He eyed the blond then looked to Mr. Yagi, feeling like he was now apart of some sort of in joke, he didn’t like it at all. “Trying to read.” 

“Don’t let me stop you. Say, when was the last time you actually groomed this mane of hair?”

“I just got into town.”

“Reading is more important? What are you some sort of student?” 

“Sort of.” 

“What is so imperative about reading up on ancient Quirk theory?”

“More than what you think.” Shouta deflected.

“Sure sure, what’s your name anyway? You’re charming in a pufferfish kind of way.”

Shouta fell silent unsure if he wanted to take the risk, “If I tell you will you leave me alone? Or would that just encourage you more?”

“Take a guess!” Hizashi crowed. 

“I don’t think I have too.” Shouta exhaled. 

Toshinori shouldn’t have let Hizashi get this far but the growing flustered look on Mr. Aizawa’s face was rather amusing. Like a cat that was coming to the realization it was going to take a dunk in a flea bath.

Hizashi grew bored quickly enough deciding to take up one of the books, “What’s with this “All for One talk…”

There was a deep thrumming pang that hit deep in Toshinori’s chest, for once his sleeping hidden away Gifted-Quirk began to sparkle upwards like a growing fire. He had gotten used to it, when he was in control over it.

Shouta opened his mouth when he could just feel… heat… pouring off in Yagi’s direction. His head tilted. ‘Bright’ Nezu had said, but he hadn’t mentioned the golden heat or feeling of the sun entering the room. What was slumbering in the damaged crypt had ‘left’ and was now in this rail of a man? But how? As far as Shouta knew, this man wouldn’t make it out of the City line for how frail he seemed.

Shouta and Toshinori locked eyes. Both considering each other seriously.  
“You know, if you two keep staring at each other, I’m going to throw you guys into a supply closet.”

Toshinori glared at the long haired man still casually draped over Aizawa. “You will do no such thing.” He stalked over grabbing Hizashi by the collar, yanking him away. “That sort of talk can get us into some serious trouble.”

“Doubtful people are more worried about not dying under the sun.” ‘Zashi squeaked out as he stared at his toes dragging on the floor.

Toshinori merely grunted. 

Shouta let out a slow sigh, his head falling back as the two blonds disappeared from the library. Peace at last.

 

“What is it that you need to tell me about?” Toshinori asked as Hizashi perched on one of the replica sarcophagus. 

“Oh I found something!” Hizashi chirped, eyes sparkling despite the dim lighting in the supply rooms they often ate lunch in. 

“Found something… gold bars? Two tickets to America leaving in an hour?” Toshi teased, earning a glare.

“No but possibly better!” Hizashi shoved his triangle of sandwich into his mouth as he made a curious noise, fishing about his pockets. He came up with a heavy bronze octagon trinket. There were hieroglyphics, seals and the image of not only Anubis but also a Pharaoh. 

Toshinori fetched his glasses to study the object. “I’m no Egyptologist… But I know my way around.” Partially David’s influence, partially boredom when the days were nothing but waiting in a room full of intellectual material, “Where did you get this?”

“It fell out of someone’s pocket, I grabbed it to return it but they had disappeared.”

“So you came here.” Toshinori eyed Hizashi, ‘aren’t we a little old to be running back to big brother? But in this instance? I get it.’ 

“What better place? Do you think it might be worthwhile?” Hizashi wondered watching his brother turn the puzzle-box around. 

“Ah… honestly? I’m not sure. Seems legitimate enough?” Toshinori admitted his broad shoulders shrugging. “The tool marks certainly seem…” his fingers ran over a side panel on the octagon box-

_CLICK_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know-- I have a fandom twitter now! It's still @TribbleBean for that one (but I haven't had time to do anything with it)
> 
> my main twitter handle is @JavaSpiral I'm trying to post more artwork and goodies there if you're into original art and random photos of my cat feel free. I'd love the company either way.


	5. Chapter 4: Do Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live. I figured out how to link some things together. I had to do some major surgery from the previous chapter. 
> 
> Once again, all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Also happy and safe Pride to you all :D
> 
> Chapter Warnings: None

“Hizashi…”

“Yes?” A few strands of long blond hair fell down his voice tight with anticipation.

“I think you may have found something.” Toshinori was ginger in his handling of the parchment. 

“Can we show the curator?” Hizashi’s voice squeaking in his excitement. 

“Hope you like tea on this fine blustery day of sub-volcanic. Come on little artist.”

“I’m not little.”

“When you grow to be my size I won’t call you tiny anymore.”

“So… essentially.”

“Five days past hell freezing over.” Toshinori unfolded his legs and got up with a hard groan as his knees cracked.

Hizashi tried not to wince. Bless him, he tried not to let the pity show in his eyes this time. 

—

Nezu inspected the map, Toshinori craning over the small fluffy curator. There were a million questions he the tip of his tongue. But nothing surfaced when he found familiar looking landmarks leading right back to….

“Hamunaptra…” Toshinori felt blood stain his tongue in a spastic cough, he turned his head to empty the latest glut into a handkerchief.

“Fairy tales and hogwash no place exists.” Nezu assured. 

Toshinori caught a mental image of himself skinning his boss in his brief flare of rage. He was there, he lost men, he lost a civilian companion not to mention his ability to eat, breathe and be fucking useful. 

Skinning the sentient teddy bear would be easy. Might give Hizashi nightmares for the foreseeable future and make that shady fellow clear out for good as well. Scarring Hizashi was the only factor that gave him pause. 

“You’d be killing yourselves hunting for this city. Flights of fancy, treasure hunting leaves nothing but despair in its wake. Stick to you art it’s more noble of a cause.”

That at least Toshinori could agree with. The light dulling in his brother’s eyes. Another dead end…. An orange glow filling his face, that was new. Why orange? 

“OH DEAR.” Nezu squeaked throwing the map away from himself on reflex as it caught alight. 

“The treasure map!” Hizashi jolted.

“THE CARPET.” Toshinori crowed.

Both men patted at the parchment snuffing it out. "You've burnt it!" Hizashi panted. 

“For the best, greed doesn’t suit you, Hizashi…” Nezu said softly, “especially something so risky. The desert is a cruel mistress. Those that have gone have returned barely living. If they return at all.” 

“He’s got a fair point…” Toshinori said not mentioning how he was exhibit A for Nezu's statement (or how much he hated being that way). 

Hizashi’s glare was pure venom, his brother’s eyes had never been so cruel. 

Toshinori fell to his ass stunned. 

The glare, was short lived Hizashi’s shoulders slumped. He was chewing his inner cheek. Toshinori reflexively patted Hizashi’s cheeks to make him stop. 

“How long are you going to hate me?” Toshinori asked watching his sibling twist away. 

The tense and awful silence that fell over the room said it all. Hizashi got up, snapping up the box before Nezu could move it. Nezu looked dismayed watching the bronze piece be shoved into Hizashi’s pocket as he walked out, looking like an even larger storm cloud than he was previously. 

A shadow moved from the door, Mr. Aizawa was there, looking over his shoulder then back into the room. The man seemed wholly confused. Toshinori paused locking eyes with the man. His eyes were fathomless, magnetic in their own way. Toshinori blinked snapping into big brother mode, going after Hizashi. 

“Ah familial bonds.” Toshinori heard Nezu say. 

The only clue he had to Mr. Aizawa’s origins story was: “Feels like I haven’t missed much then.” The rest of the conversation faded away.

“It won’t kill you to make some sort of meaningful bond with someone.” Nezu said amiably.

“Will it now? I haven’t heard that before.” Shouta clipped. He checked over his shoulder, not seeing either blond, he turned to his commander, “Mr. Yagi…”

“Yes?”

“Is the man from three years ago?”

“Yes. Being impaled then the stresses of war took a lot out of him.”

“You’re not kidding.” Shouta felt his body involuntarily shudder at the thought of what the man was, to what he is now. “Why keep him close? Or it has to do with our founding Fathers smashed final resting place?”

Nezu smiled, “Picked up on that didn’t you?”

“Well I thought nothing of him, then he was on top of a ladder, and down in the span of a blink. Not to mention the sounds of a near catastrophe.” 

“Yes… Mr. Yagi is dedicated as a librarian but he’s prone to having some… Ah…” he rubbed his paws against his eyes then down to his whiskers to borrow time, “judgement… No… he has butterfingers some times. But he always manages to save the bookshelves. Though there are more cracks and splinters now.” he took a sip of tea to hide his dismay. 

“His Quirk?”

Nezu smirked, “He didn’t have one until three years ago going from the registry office.” 

A chill ran up Shouta’s back as the revelation hit, he sat up straighter, “How is that possible?”

“He inherited a Quirk.” 

“From a corpse.”

“Seems to be the case, yes.” 

“Do you- do you know how?” Shouta felt his leg bounce with nerves. “I don’t understand. I know that the Creature--- before he was the creature-- gave his brother a Quirk. Which I touted as moonshine to give Quirkless folk false hope with more cruelty on the storytellers part more than anything.” 

“Oh that part is definitely true. The rarest Quirk of all- one that can outlive one human lifetime and in theory get stronger through the succession.” 

Shouta nodded the implications of such a power were terrifying to say the least. Would it get to a certain point would the Quirk destroy its host from the inside out? 

“But how.” Shouta blurted out, “How was it transferred in the first place?”

“Well I’m assuming through some sort of genetic material.”

Didn’t genetic material have a time limit? Shouta squinted not understanding. “But…”

“I’ve a sneaking suspicion that this Quirk was dormant until the sarcophagus was smashed. What reactivated it I’ve no idea. Reintroduction of moisture? Blood? I’d hate to think that there is something sentient about this Quirk and it had been keeping itself alive much like the Creature.” Nezu said with a shrug, “So I’ve been monitoring Mr. Yagi. He seems himself or what I know of him. But I do know that he has some sleepless night habits where he goes out as a sort of vigilante figure. But if stopping human trafficking is the worst thing he does.” The ‘then there is no problem’ was implied. 

Shouta nodded. Tucking his face into his capture weapon he began chewing over the new information.

—

Toshinori found his brother drowning his sorrows in what seemed to be the City’s largest falafel stuffed naan. He seemed to have made it extra spicy to prevent Toshinori from stealing a few bites. Childish, but, Hizashi wasn’t against playing dirty from time to time. Toshinori could tell by the way Hizashi would suck in air while fanning himself. His strategy this time seemed to be a double edged sword. 

“You do realize it’s a suicide run right? Nezu wasn’t wrong.” Toshinori began gently, “And a horribly painful suicide at that.”

“What happened to the adventurous devil may care attitude? “Might as well try it out! We’ll find something!” you used to say. What the fuck happened to THAT Toshi?”

“He got maimed in combat and in the very spot _you_ found the map too. I’m keeping you _safe_.”

“Safe? What’s so dangerous about it? It’s a damn archaeological site. Just knowing where it’s at can get us out of here. You said yourself it was an attack. What’s the percentage of a repeat?” 

“Higher than you think, that place is guarded for good reason. I know you’re desperate to leave-” Toshinori was cut off. 

“Like you’re not?” Hizashi crushed his comfort food between his fingers, “Mom came here for a job, that job killed her. You took over taking care of _me_ and damn near died on a job as well. I just want raining gold coins to scrape up so we can go back to London and leave this place behind us.” He went to wipe his eyes with his hands, Toshinori stopped him. 

“Not with the spices on your hands.” 

Hizashi pouted but allowed Toshinori close enough to wipe his tears. “They took mum… and left us here to rot.” Hizashi swallowed hard on his tears not caring that he was drawing concerned looks. Some days this wound opened, festering anew. 

“I know.” Toshinori could feel his heart crumbling. 

“Why did they not take us back too?” 

“I don’t know.” Toshinori admitted. It had been the lowest blow from the Embassy. Taking their mother’s body (or rather what was left of it) and ignoring Toshinori banging on the doors demanding answers, demanding passage back. He hated to think what happened to their home. What precious simple treasures had been seized. What all had been junked. At least Hizashi and Toshinori both shared on half of Mother’s locket. Both holding two different group family photos. 

They had been forgotten by the systems at hand, again. Slipping through the cracks and being ignored. Hizashi had been inconsolable for months. Toshinori was no better. It probably didn’t help Hizashi’s mental state when he, Toshinori, ran off to join the armed forces thinking it was the answer to their situation. 

The question was now, would Hizashi go running off and abandon him on a treasure hunt to even the score? 

Fuck, Toshinori seriously hoped not. 

“We’ll get back to Mum… I promise we’ll see her again send her off properly. Irises- bunches of them.”

Hizashi ended up resting his head against Toshinori’s chest. “You risked your neck. It’s my turn to risk mine.”

“You’re better off being the clever artist you are. Your talent is wasted trying to outfox the desert.” 

“You’re getting better at flattery and bullshit.” Hizashi grumbled looking up at his brother’s gaunt face.

“Kissing up to your superiors will do that. Come on… I’m sure Mr. Nezu has something to do around the museum.” 

“I suppose.” 

“Any word about getting into the funnies?” Toshinori asked wondering if that might be a worthwhile distraction.

“They’re not interested. They want pretty sparkly golden treasure, not observations at ground zero or a new take on the mythology here. It’s not like anyone would want to read original work either. I’ve no experiences anyone wants to read- no one wants to stare societal failings right in the face. Orphans? What are those? Suffering? What is that?”

Bad question. Toshinori ruffled his brother’s hair, then pulled him close in a sideways hug as they went into the safety of the museum. At least Hizashi wouldn’t end up kicking the nearest police officer. Posting bail (again) for Hizashi was not high on the list. 

Nezu’s student? Ward? Mr. Aizawa was still in the office. Both having an open banter on of all things- the eternal debate of what was better- tea or coffee. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Aizawa was on coffee’s side. 

“All I’m saying sir, coffee is a one hit wonder. You don’t have to have an entire pantry full of different teas to satisfy a particular craving. Coffee is just more versatile gets the pop you need after the second or third sip. With tea you’re left wanting.”

“Yet tea is lighter on the stomach and the caffeine crash less severe! Surely it makes more sense to have a steady stomach in high stress situations. What do you think Mr. Yagi? Mr. Yamada?”

The two blonds eyed each other. Well if this was how the day will devolve it could have been worse.

“I, is… this a trick question? Cause I’d rather not dampen my chances trying to see if I can do some work here today?”

Nezu sprang up, eager to have extra hands, “There’s some areas that need dusting! There’s a feather duster in the closet! Pay will be given at the end of the day as usual.” 

“Mind the jumping spiders they like corners.” Shouta managed through a yawn. 

Toshinori wanted to break this man’s back over his knee. Hizashi’s teeth were chattering already. 

“Ju… jump…jumping… Spi...spiders…? Who allowed those to exist?” 

“You scare my brother again-” 

“It was a logical warning.” Shouta rounded glaring at Toshinori, “brewing up a threat?”

“Just a warning.”

“If we have a problem we can have a nice discussion _like adults_ outside.” Aizawa growled his posture was ramrod straight. 

Hizashi giggled nervously, “I’ll take my chances with the spiders. Good luck Mr. Curator!” 

Nezu twitched, displeased. “Children… I want this to stop. Right now. I want a truce- I want you two to shake hands and start over.” 

“Roses and a candle lit dinner as well?” Yagi tapped his foot. He didn’t trust Mr. Aizawa, there was just an off air about him. 

Didn’t help the man was scary. Aizawa was just imposing in his own enigmatic unreadable way. 

“It’s not a bad idea really.” Nezu said making Shouta choke on his own spit. Toshinori was hacking up his remaining lung as well.

They eventually shook hands, Mr. Aizawa’s gaze was inscrutable but his ears were tinted pink. Toshinori had a harder time meeting the dark gaze of the shorter man. His own skin flushed a deep pink. 

“Oh, Shouta? I’ve got a few more books for you.” Nezu had already formed a new list. 

“Thank you, sir.” Shouta turned heel to take the list. 

Toshinori, beat him too it. Plucking the list off the desk and humming. 

“What are you doing?”

“My job. We’re starting over right? Might as well start now.” Toshinori smiled, as genuine a smile as he could muster. 

“Second first impressions?” Shouta put his hands akimbo eyeing the man. 

“Could be worse.” Toshinori grinned. 

“Is it always like this in the city? Just reconfiguring relationships until you like the result?” 

“Sticking around long enough to find out?” Yagi asked smiling mildly.

“At this rate I don’t want to.” Shouta admitted, but knew full well he had a job to stick close to this man. He’d send Horus out to let the main camp know the new plan. He was on guard duty, eat his portion of food until he got back. That sort of thing.

Toshinori would play nice, grudgingly. Mr. Aizawa hadn’t really done anything save for be a smart ass. He should lighten up just a touch. 

Life resumed in the library, only broken by the occasional sound of Hizashi chanting, “Please be empty Mr. Web.” on occasion. 

“He wouldn’t have made it past the camel spiders, treasure or no.” Shouta spoke to the table scratching a few notes out in a hasty hand. “I didn’t mean to overhear but ears are ears.” 

“My brother, when he’s set on something, won’t stop until he succeeds.” 

“If you say so.” Shouta flipped a page before sighing, and continuing his note taking. 

After that silence resumed. 

It was shaping out to be an interesting day in his line of work. He almost got into a fight with a library patron. Hizashi found a map to a cursed legendary city and his boss mercifully burned the map. Now he was making friends with someone that could slit throats 500 yards out by the look of him.

It was about the most fun he had in years. He smiled to himself as he resumed his shelving. 

Rhythmic walking caught his attention. It was practically marching. Two sets of boots coming to the library. 

Rare but not unheard of. Toshinori craned his neck over his shoulder. Army men coming in. They looked serious. Dressed in tailored khaki uniforms. The men looked confused eyeing the photograph they had in their hand. They eyed Toshinori, debating briefly among themselves:

“It can’t be the same man…” 

“We have to ask. Orders are orders.” 

“Ummm?” Hizashi began appearing from one of the side doors. Hizashi looked towards his brother. 

Toshinori shrugged, mouthing: “I don’t know!” 

“Yagi, Toshinori?”

“Yes?” Toshinori looked back to the soldiers, looking far too innocent for his own good.

“Sir, we must request that you come with us.”

“For what reason?” Toshinori leaned his weight on one hip while folding his arms in front of his chest.

“For desertion during times of war.” 

“NO!” Hizashi shouted, “No! He did nothing wrong! How could he desert anything? He’s the lone survivor! Anyone that survives a battlefield has to be rounded up and shot?! What the fuck! HOW IS THAT RIGHT?”

Toshinori aged suddenly, he looked so worn and tired his arms falling lax at his sides. “Hizashi it’s alright. No need for the handcuffs, I won’t resist.” 

“TOSHI!” Hizashi rushed forward only to be stopped by his brother glaring at him. “Please no. Please? Not you too.” 

Shouta stood up, no… no no no… Wait they needed him alive! If the creature was resurrected there wouldn’t be a thing anyone could do! He opened his mouth, but his protest died before he could form words. 

The three were already moving. The stubborn palm tree of a man accepting his fate. He was all but tying the noose for them. 

Toshinori walked out holding himself straight towering over the two soldiers. Who seemed intimidated by his stature alone. It gave Shouta a sick glee at their discomfort. 

Three sets of footsteps left. 

“Oh dear…” Nezu said suddenly there standing on the table Shouta had been using, “That’s not good.” 

“What do we do?” Hizashi asked turning to Shouta. 

Shouta rolled his neck, Mr. Yagi was already a pain in his ass, “We go after them; save his neck. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continued support. Glad that you stopped by. 
> 
> Once again I'm on Twitter at @JavaSpiral (most active one account) and @TribbleBean (my poor neglected fan account)


	6. Chapter 5: Noose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Attempted lynching/attempted execution. For those that wish to avoid I will clearly label before and after the scene.
> 
> This Chapter was a _beast_ when I first wrote it out. The thing was it was abhorrently long thus my debate of "where the hell do I break this off???" began. I'd rather not drown anyone with these chapters. But if you wish for me to stick to longer chapters "As they come" please let me know, or, if you enjoy the length of the chapters post cut. It'd be super helpful.

The prison was all but open air. Prison cells made of sandstone walls and iron bars that baked in the sun the men within haggard often sweating or clinging to the darker corners. Many inmates were practically in their own ovens the closer to the top floor they got. Those held for long periods often collapsed due to the extreme heat. Depending on how merciful the guard on duty was, prisoners were likely to die from heat stroke. 

Hizashi couldn’t help but look at the carts of piled up prisoners slowly lumbering out of the main entrance. Bodies in unceremonious heaps, a tangle of pale limbs, fingers and toes blued over in death. Some corpses already in advanced stages of decomposition. Like a bad nightmare he watched the cart move off. Hizashi didn’t know why he checked, his brother was more than likely still alive. He knew for a fact they would make a scene of Toshinori. These unfortunate souls were the ones left to rot where they fell. 

Shouta covered his mouth and nose with his capture weapon to filter the smell that wafted from the wooden carts. He grabbed Hizashi by the elbow as the artist searched the carts: “You’re wasting time. Come on.”

“What are we going to do?” Hizashi groaned eyeing his new travel companion. Hizashi thus far was a little reluctant to call him a friend just yet. 

“Bribery works. I have some cash to wave under their noses.” Shouta murmured once they were past the main set of guards. 

“Why are you doing this for us?” Hizashi’s eyes narrowed. 

“My teacher is rather fond of your brother. He’d be heartbroken.” Shouta supplied. It felt… It felt more realistic than any alternate lie. 

“Hard to imagine.” Hizashi snorted. 

“Well, I have to admit to the same disbelief, but allow me to say: I’d rather not see my teacher unstable. You must have heard one of his outbursts of mania.” Shouta paused only long enough to state his point to Hizashi before continuing. 

Hizashi nodded, “I thought he was having a seizure after laughing a few times to be perfectly honest.”

Whatever Hizashi was expecting as an answer- the: “Sounds about right” wasn’t it. Nor the aloof tone he employed it all stages of interaction with guards asking for directions. Murmurs of bored "thank you"s as if trying to save a stranger’s life was commonplace. The mystery deepened upon reflection. Was this just how Mr. Aizawa was? There had to be more, there _had_ to be more. 

Mr. Nezu… Mr. Curator? Nezu never made mention of having a student at all. If this man truly was what he said- wouldn’t he look less like a full blown assassin and more of the bookish type? Not that he had anything against Mr. Aizawa's looks per se, but, he had a certain “creep” factor to him. Was it the hair? Was it the stubble? Was it the dead silent way the man walked? The artist wasn't sure what was setting off alarm bells, for now, he couldn't allow himself the space to ponder it out. His oaf of a elder brother needed his neck saved.

Hizashi fell behind the man, who walked up with the ease and confidence of a charming businessman about to sell the latest car model to someone that could never afford it. 

“Hello, I’m here to speak with one of your prisoners? He’s just been detained.” 

“Ah… of course?” the man said mopping sweat off of his tanned brow and replacing his cap. Overweight, wearing an unbuttoned suit coat that was couldn’t be shut. Hizashi figured the man never got rid of it, lamenting the days where the coat fit him properly. 

“Which one?” The man asked mopping his brow again. A denotation of his rank of warden on his left arm.

“Tall about…” Shouta stretched his arm out and flicked his fingers in a fast line, “Seven feet or so?”

“Oh, the traitor! Right this way.” The man waddled off. Shouta following casually. Trying not to seem too rushed. So far so good. But getting Mr. Yagi out was a fifty-fifty shot of being easy or damned hard.

Hizashi rushed up, bursting in a low whisper that popped in Shouta’s ear: “What are you doing?” 

That was serious control right there. Shouta was impressed, he took a moment to process his question: “Checking to make sure he’s in one piece, plus, I figured if we can humanize your brother in front of the Warden… The easier time we’ll have walking him out of here upright.” Shouta whispered back.

Hizashi liked the idea enough, “What if that plan fails?” 

“I’m trying to weigh the plan that won’t get us shot too much.” The raven haired man stated blankly. 

Hizashi swallowed, eyeing the layered scarf about Aizawa’s neck. Was that a part of the plan if things took a tailspin?

On the ground level cells, there was more shade, but there was room for standing only. Save for one section, the prisoners set to be executed. It was fairly wide, plenty of room to pace. There, Toshinori sat favouring his wounded side locking his arm over the damaged tissue. He hadn’t been gone from their sight long, at the most forty minutes maybe even an hour. But even at this distance both Hizashi and Shouta could see the rough state he was in. 

Hizashi bolted past the Warden, who startled momentarily, he adjusted his coat, continuing his walk. Rolling his eyes at the outburst. 

“Toshi!” Hizashi hit the bars, ignoring how damn hot they were to touch. He was reaching for his brother, “Toshi? Oh my god…” 

“Hizashi, what are you doing here?” Toshinori asked moving forward in the cell a bit more so he could look his brother over. 

“You fucking frustrating son of a bitch older brother I- I…” Hizashi started then stopped, taking in the work over Toshinori endured. 

How Toshinori was still sitting up right, looking proud and strong; both men on the other side of the bars didn’t know. Toshinori’s face set in a grim scowl, masking his pain. Blood trickling in thin rivers down his temple. Shouta was taking in the devastation that was etched over the lithe figure. Large welts from whip lashing and bruises were already forming under a sweat soaked shirt. Some lines tinted pink, from where the blood had been diluted with sweat. The strikes from a bullwhip slashing cloth and flesh alike with perfect ease. Blood unable to clot, laying exposed in less than ideal sanitary conditions. Madame Shuzenji would have her work cut out for her once Toshinori was out. 

Shouta bit his cheek, trying to keep any emotion from entering his face. He had never seen such brutality. Where they trying to break this man? ‘He won’t allow himself to be seen as weak. I can see the stubborn streak from here. The more they hit the more he clung to his pride.’ Shouta thought, impressed once again by the newest holder of One-for-All. 

Hizashi was reaching into mop up the sweat with a handkerchief from his pocket. “There’s a bit of…” he choked a little, “On your eye…” He mopped up the stream of sweat. 

Toshinori sighed, “I don’t want you here.”

“Too fucking bad.”

“Language!” 

“Learned it from you.” Hizashi hissed, “Don’t you lecture me!”

Toshinori laughed, “Yessir.” 

“Tough bastard.” the Warden snapped. “What do you need with him? He’s due to be hung any minute. Once the boys get done getting the drop ready that is. This bastard is too tall for it to work properly had to start digging a few extra feet.”

Shouta wanted to snap the Warden’s neck, the temptation was there. Shouta stored that particular nugget of blood lust away for another day. There was something about this man he didn’t like, but he had to choke down his contempt if he wanted a fighting chance to get Mr. Yagi out alive. 

Hizashi’s smile faded he leaned closer. Fear etched on his face, a few tears slipping free as he looked into his brother’s eyes. Green meeting blue but the blue closed with a defeated sigh. Hizashi’s paint stained hands doubled up tight clinging to his brother’s shirt, one giant hand resting patiently atop of the younger brother’s head through the bars. 

“Hey pup.” Toshinori said giving ‘Zashi a watery smile. The one thing to make him break this would be it. He had hoped that someone would have restrained his brother. The last place the artist needed to be was here.

But honestly, what made Toshinori just roll over to accept his ‘crimes’ he didn’t know. Part of him was so done with living, any exit he had was welcomed. The other half of him wasn’t done living yet. He could see Mr Aizawa talking with the warden, his posture tense, dark eyes even more unfriendly than the last time Toshinori had seen him. A barely suppressed glare was being leveled at the short man. The pinch between Shouta’s eyes growing by each word passing the Warden’s lips. The words: “Ah here they come now.” catching Toshinori’s ear. 

They were eager to just hang him and bypass his right to a trial: ‘You essentially forfeit the right. Now you want to live. Good luck surviving the drop.’ He thought as he ruffled Hizashi’s hair into a tangled mess. Usually his brother would fuss but not right now it seemed. 

“Come, we shall discuss this…” The Warden snapped his fingers, “We’ll see how good you are under stress.” 

Toshinori was dragged backwards by his hair, cranking his neck back at a painful angle. Hizashi clawing at him. 

What did Aizawa say to him? He should have paid better attention as the door slammed shut. ‘Think, think Toshinori! I can get out of this. What can I do?’ 

 

_**Warnings are applied here** _

Shouta stalked the short man, “Warden---” 

“Hugo Mineta.” * [Please see Author’s Notes at the end of the Chapter]

“Mineta. I’ve reasonable evidence you’re condemning a man that has seen enough. He was forced into his leadership role after his superior abandoned them before battle broke out.” 

“Circumstantial at best.” The Warden said climbing the stairs and taking his seat like an eager movie goer.

“I’m an eyewitness.” Shouta offered quickly.

“Clever, bordering on adorable even, but no, without the man here or more than your _eyes_ I’ll still have to hang him.” 

Shouta looked out over and down into the courtyard. Cold sweat forming as he saw Toshinori with the noose being fitted around his neck. 

Hizashi had caught up, his skin going a terrible shade of pale green.

 

“Any last requests pig?” The hangman asked, his breath smelled of rot, Toshinori reflexively twisted his head away into the noose more, making the scratchy material bite into his neck more. 

“Yeah, loosen the knot and let me go.” Toshinori growled out.

The man took him seriously, which gave Toshinori some sense of humour. The man spoke up to the Warden in a fast clip. 

“Of course not you idiot we don’t let him go!” Mineta snapped. 

The hangman shrugged giving Toshinori a hard slap on his shoulder before walking down to take his spot by the lever. 

‘Think Toshinori. I’ve had bad before.’ He felt himself swallow his stomach back down, ‘This is worse.’ 

Shouta was haggling with the Warden: “100 Dollars to cut him down.”

“I’d pay that to see him hang.” the man shrugged. 

“200!” 

“Proceed.” 

Fuck usually American currency was enough to get most people to comply. Shouta made ready to leap over the banister. “NO!” 

Toshinori felt the floor go from his feet. He locked up, remembering too late he could have just increased his size. He waited for the loud deafening crack of his neck snapping. Then… His feet hit dirt. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so stunned. 

The Warden was covering his eyes, “Right, we do this the old way, and watch him strangle to death.” he gestured to a few men below that went up to hoist Yagi up. “But that will give you more time to barter for his life now isn’t it? How much is it worth to you to see this man live?” 

Shouta opened his mouth, only to have Hizashi push him aside. “He knows the way to Hamunaptra!” 

The first strangled cough was heard as Yagi was lifted off the ground just enough to make his feet scrape the ground. He tried to focus to activate his Quirk, pain clouded his ability to focus, the golden feeling was hard to chase. The slow dawning panic doing little but making futile kicks as his feet left the ground more. A few wet coughs passing his lips. 

“You’re lying.” Hugo snarled, “You’re telling me that- that useless sack of shit knows the way to Hamunaptra?”

“I would never! He’s the only one to ever make it back alive. If you cut him down we’ll give you a percentage of the treasure. 20%?” 

“40%” Hugo rounded. 

“35.” Hizashi barked not breaking eye contact with the man. 

“25!” 

“AH! DEAL.” Hizashi shook Hugo’s hand quickly. 

The Warden stopped dead, retracing his steps. “Fuck… LET HIM DOWN.” 

**_Warnings End_**

********

********

Toshinori hit the dirt, his legs giving out and he hit his back with a dull thud. He gasped air tasting sweet in his remaining lung. His hands cut from their bindings and he was left there. He was let down? The hell did they say to get him down?

 

Hizashi ran to him hugging him. Another harsh cough escaping Toshinori's lung.

“Easy, easy, easy… How the hell did you two get me down Mr. Aizawa?” 

“It wasn’t my doing. Though I tried.” Aizawa said his head hung down, his wild hair covering the majority of his face.

“I told him that you knew the way to Hamunaptra.” Hizashi chirped looking proud of himself. 

“You… didn’t….” Toshinori coughed blood coating his cupped hand. He ignored it, “I’m not going back.”

“It’s not advisable at all to go.” Shouta said, “There is truth in the stories, the desert has claimed far too many hunting for the City.”

“To hell with you both! If it’s actually a myth then we lose him in the middle of the night! If you won’t go then I’ll go in your damn stead! I saw the map long enough.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “Besides you made it back what’s to say I won’t?”

Toshinori sighed, “I’m the lone survivor. Do you honestly want to come back in a similar state?” 

Hizashi inhaled, growling low enough to make the ground tremble underfoot. “I… am… not you… I can handle my own. I did all those years while you were away.” 

“This is different.” Toshinori croaked. 

“Either you’re with me or you’re not. I’m going. And. You. Can’t. Stop. Me.” 

Shouta watched all fight leave Mr. Yagi’s form as he slumped his shoulders. 

“We’re packing up… We’re heading for the docks tomorrow. Let me get cleaned up, and rested.” Toshinori said in a dead tone. He hauled himself to his feet, knees braced as his balance evened out.

“I’m calling you a doctor.” Shouta offered.

“Don’t bother.” Yagi snapped, “I’m fine.”

Shouta’s nose crinkled in a snarl but he said nothing. He let his hair cover his face again.

Hizashi smiled as if there hadn’t been an argument at all between them. He braced his brother while they walked him from the prison.

Shouta had to let the others know. There were to be guests and he would most likely be in their numbers. 

“Are you coming Mr. Aizawa?” Hizashi asked. 

“Seems I’ve no choice.” He drawled. 

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re going to need someone that knows the desert. Better than Mr. Yagi.” 

Hizashi shrugged, “Didn’t know you cared.”

“I’m tired of burying foolish tourists.” Shouta shrugged, “The docks tomorrow.” 

With a curt bow, Aizawa was gone slipping into the shadows, into the crowd, before vanishing in plain sight. 

“I don’t trust him.” Toshi hissed. 

“He tried to get you down. That has to count.” 

“Why? That’s the thing that’s eating me.”

“Ask him tomorrow, he fed me a line of bull about Mr. Curator being upset about you dying.” Hizashi huffed stomping off in the generalized direction of home. 

 

~*~

 

It was still cool, but the sun was fully out. The smell of the tide change from low to high marked their departure time. The call to board being bellowed out by Deckhands.

Toshinori had a large pack on his back. White button down, tan slacks, worn leather boots, to top it all off a blue bandanna to help fend off sand. His lacerations bandaged, his bruises already fading away. His old bandoleer vest hung less fitted than before over his shoulders. But they were there, the comforting weight of the leather helping ground him. He was protected, Hizashi would be safe so long as Toshi knew where he was at all times. If they lived, the 'I told you so' might be worth it after the trauma settled down.

Toshinori had prepped last night, stocking up with any weapons and ammo he could get his hands on. Hizashi merely packed his usual expedition gear, lightweight art supplies, a sketchbook along with some clothes and dried food. The gravity of the situation still missing in the young artist for the time being. 

“Do you think Mr. Aizawa will come?” Hizashi asked looking at the barge, the line of pack horses being lead on by a few cowboy looking characters. 

“He’s not bound to anything, we have no way of telling if he’ll keep his word. Besides, he’s shady, he looks like he’ll slit your throat while you sleep.”

“Anyone I know?” A flat voice asked. 

Toshinori spun on his heel coming face to face with Mr. Aizawa. 

Who, had cleaned up. The stubble gone leaving a smooth strong jaw. Wild black hair pulled back into a neat half-bun. His clothes were light weight, much nicer than the all black he had been sporting. Though black was still present with his outermost layers. The loose white linen tunic and slate pants suited him. The odd bandages were gone as well, replaced by a blue and white patterned shemagh. There was also a hefty bag slung over Aizawa’s shoulder. He braced it with his arm as he did a soft bow. 

“Sabah alkhyr.” [Good Morning] 

“Mr. Aizawa?” Toshinori's head tilted, thinking that this must be some sort of prank.

“Yes?” Dark eyes looked up from the bow dead into Toshinori's gaze.

JUST CHECKING! “Good morning to you as well…” Toshinori stammered out, his cheeks tinting pink. 

“Hmm.” 

“A bright and good day to you all!” 

Hizashi groaned hoping that the three of them didn’t have to deal with the Warden. Toshinori wrinkling his nose in dismay. “What are you doing here?” both blond men snapped. 

“I’m here to protect my investment thank you very much.” The warden huffed cutting the line to head aboard between the last of the horses and the first passengers.

“I dislike him.”

“Do you like anyone?” Aizawa asked. 

“He did try to hang me.” Toshinori huffed.

“After you rolled over exposing your belly.” Shouta said dismissively, “You seem to be the stubborn sort, pity you can’t use that stubbornness for your own self preservation.” 

“You must live to argue.”

“No, just pointing out your own hypocrisy. We’ll get along fine when you start owning up to your mistakes.” Aizawa sighed, before making his way up an empty gangplank. "We could have sparred ourselves this pain." 

“You know if you buy him a drink you might be able to kiss and make up with him real quick.” Hizashi wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Excuse you?”

“You were eyeing him.” 

“I was not and you best stop that talk before you land us in real hot water.” 

“Not likely to happen you’ve got a crush~ Oooo Toshi’s growing up~ You’re like a school boy that doesn’t know what feelings are~” 

“Get up the gangplank you brat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:  
> * I’m no fan of Mineta but for the sake of story I’m not about to age the character up- I’ll consider this Warden a sort of “distant relative” I had been debating on who I wanted to see as the Warden and I figured name borrowing would do what I needed best. But, feel free dear readers to imagine whomever you wish as the Warden.


	7. Chapter 6: Chesspieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out on the barge uneasy friendships are forged and old faces resurface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Working Title: We're on a boat mother fucker"
> 
> Once again I wanted to break up the chapter, I had intended to go farther but felt it best to cut off where I did. I have no beta, so any and all mistakes and errors are mine. If you let me know if I borked a thing I will gladly fix it.

Chapter 6: Chessboard 

 

For the first few hours, Mr. Aizawa was nowhere to be seen. The decks crawling with activity as various passengers staked out their spots finding shady corners and stealing extra tables or chairs. A few people got Toshinori’s attention, just for the fact that they were, well… Strange. 

Stranger than Aizawa ever was. One man with pale hair grey-silver hair (from what Toshinori could see of it) had his face bandaged and he would start twitching on occasion scratching at the bandages. His companion with horrid burn scars would reach out and stop his hands as he attempted to claw his neck. 

Toshinori pretended he didn’t notice. He settled under a shady spot with Hizashi, who was contently sketching away. Littered around an imaginary margin within the leatherbound book was shorthand notes, the taller man leaned over to read them. “Story notes?”

“I figure if this is interesting enough I can maybe do something with this whole experience.” 

Leave it to ‘Zashi to attempt to make this into a comic book thing. 

“Have you seen ‘Zawa?” Hizashi asked not looking up.

“Didn’t know I needed to keep tabs on him.” Toshinori snorted. 

“Testy, testy! No need to take my head off. I was just curious.”

“Where’s our Warden?” Toshi asked spitting the words out.

“You’re in a fine mood.” Hzashi drawled sarcastically before answering: “Taking advantage of the buffet below decks. I heard some of the crew threatening to use him as crocodile bait.” ‘Zashi said grinning mischievously, “Might slip them some hard cash to do it.”

Toshinori laughed, “I would let them come to that decision themselves. Karma’s a bitch and she likes biting people in the ass.” 

“True, but I would consider it pay back for those rope burns you’re still sporting.” 

Toshinori’s hand reflexively went to rub the area, his breath becoming short. 

“Toshi.” Hizashi began, he let his sketchbook and pencil fall from his grasp so he could hold up his hand. He tapped his own face. “Focus here.” 

Toshinori began to come down, slowly, he sagged into his seat. He closed his eyes for a while, breathing slowly as he focused on the gentle rocking of the barge. Mr. Aizawa appeared after a time going to the railing. Toshinori got up going to the man, treading cautiously as if encountering a feral cat. The darker haired man seemed to be focused on the river below as if checking for something. With a sigh Mr. Aizawa focused on the distant horizon staring off. 

Toshinori sighed, settling next to him, “Penny for your thoughts.”

“How long before your brother starts to realize he should have listened to us?” the man supplied easily.

“As soon as he sees his first camel spider.” Toshinori smirked, behind him, Hizashi made a squeaking noise. 

Shouta made a noise as he tried to stifle his laughter, "He's tenacious. It must run in the family."

"When you're stuck in an orphanage; I guess it comes with the territory."

Shouta didn't have much of a reaction, he merely nodded his head in agreement.

Toshinori could not help but feel that the still water look was revealing more than Mr. Aizawa wanted to let on. Toshinori fell silent as well the two watching a careless world pass them by. The smell of the river wafting up along with the pure humid heat of the day. 

"I suppose we best start preparing for the inevitable." 

"Agreed. There's a table over there we can take over." Toshinori gestured with his head.

"Is your brother any good with weapons?" Aizawa asked. 

Toshinori was ashamed to admit that he wasn't sure. He wished he bothered to ask, "I took him at his word when he said he could handle himself."

"Allah save us. I hope he's right." Shouta sighed plopping down in the wicker deck chair heavily, "I wish for coffee, I don't dare drink."

Toshinori merely hummed his agreement. Both men rolling out there supplies. Toshinori inspecting his side arms for a third time. 

“What else do you have?” Shouta asked.

“I’ve two pump action shotguns. I’ve also got a sniper rifle. Plenty of ammo for each one. I’ve also got some throwing knives and a standard issue combat knife. You?” 

“You come prepared. I keep it lighter for the sake of traveling. One rifle, one side arm…” he eased a shamshir out of it’s resting place, the curved blade gleaming even in the relative shade of the covered deck. “This obviously…” a whetstone appeared with some honing oil. “My quirk can buy time if it’s not a mutation quirk. That and my capture weapon.”

“Capture weapon?”

“The pale cloth I keep around my neck most times.”

“Where is it?” 

“I’m not expecting to need it while we’re on a boat. Plus, it wouldn’t help much here. Too confined. I’m more liable to miss on a boat like this.” He had managed it in tighter spaces, but, he truly didn’t expect to be attacked on a barge of all places. 

“Fair.” Toshinori sighed, “First I’ve heard of such a thing.” 

Shouta shrugged, “I had to make myself as useful as possible so I came up with it. After I figured out how to control it I can snap a man off his horse in full gallop.” 

“Impressive.” Toshinori’s face softened with his amazement he paused his inspection of his own arms. “Horrifying but impressive.” 

There was a soft smirk on Mr. Aizawa’s face. Toshinori thought it suited him just fine. “If I may… ask you a question Mr. Aizawa…” 

“Hmmn?” Dark eyes looked at him through the breaks in the man’s fringe his hands, however kept moving.

“Why did you save me?” 

Shouta had no capture weapon to hide behind, “My teacher likes you. In addition, I'm not the biggest fan of the Military Police. The fact that they wanted to dredge up charges speaks to a level of misuse of power I greatly dislike.”

Toshinori paused, that lie was so bad he wondered how Hizashi didn’t rip him apart to get to the truth of the matter. Perhaps his brother would have, if he had the time for it. For now, he let the lie slide, but didn’t label this man as “Trustworthy”. To his credit however: Aizawa was far, far better companion than Hugo Mineta. Toshinori did wonder what all the warden was up too, but also at the same time just didn’t care enough to go looking for him. 

Shouta began the long process of sharpening his blade, the subtle sound of the whetstone sliding along the metal was soothing in its own way. Shouta seemed to go into a tunnel vision like state as he worked. Blue eyes blinked, focusing on calloused hands. Both men falling into a trance like silence. 

“Is there something else bothering you? You keep staring at me.” The desert man grumbled after a while. 

“Ah…. no… but what you’re doing is strangely hypnotizing.” 

“You’re a peculiar man.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Merely an observation.” Raven hair was tossed in a quick neck jerk. “Despite your reservations, you seem almost happy to be going back into the line of danger. If I were in your shoes, knowing what is there, knowing the dangers- family or not I would have kept my ass in the City to keep what was left of my body intact.” 

“Are you sure about that? You’re willing to risk yourself for the same reason- maybe you’re even crazier than I. I have the excuse that I’m looking out for my baby brother. You? You are dealing with utter strangers.” Toshinori pointed at the man who had paused from his work.

The man huffed softly smiling. “Perhaps you’re right.” he muttered as he ran his thumb over the edge of the blade. The barge rocking just enough to sink the blade into his thumb. Shouta didn’t curse, but he cleaned his blade before setting it back in it’s sheath with one hand trying not to bleed on the weapon anymore than he had. 

Toshinori was rushing to the other side of the table with a handkerchief. “Fuck fuck fuck shit how are you so calm about this?” 

“Such a hen… I’ve had worse.” Shouta mumbled as Mr. Yagi all but grabbed his hand without prior permission to tend to him. He winced as the blond cinched the white cloth tight. 

“What do you think Dr. Yagi? Will the patient live?”Hizashi said trotting over to the both of them, a plate stacked high with cured meats, cheeses and random bits of fruit. “Lunch?”

Toshinori laughed, “I’m sure he will.” He slapped Aizawa’s shoulder a few times. 

Shouta merely stared at the younger brother. “Ah… sure?” 

 

“Up dates on our dear fourth companion: he’s in trouble with the crew for bothering the ladies below decks.” 

“Why am I unsurprised by that revelation?” Shouta wondered in a wry tone. 

“Because he’s a pig with a capital “P.”” Hizashi stated setting the plate down. The artist studied the weapons again, “Why… does it feel like I’m grossly underprepared for what we’re doing?”

“Because you are.” Toshinori snapped popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. He held Shouta’s hand aloft and refused to let the man hold his hand below a certain point. 

With his free hand Toshi slapped Shouta’s hand away from the plate. 

Aizawa opened his mouth in protest only to have a grape placed there. Startled he almost spat it out. He just stared at Toshinori. 

“I don’t want you moving too much.” Toshinori hissed, “Stop fighting me so much.” 

Shouta didn’t want to admit he rather liked being doted on like this. There was a care with these two he seldom experienced at all. He fell silent as he listened to the brother’s bicker and squabble over whatever came to mind. The alien comfort that was derived from the interactions worming its way into Shouta’s being, an emotion that he couldn’t name settling into his heart. Especially when Toshinori laughed, loud and strong, Shouta would lean in trying to capture the sensation it brought him.

These men, were, just odd to be around. It was much easier to just label the two as such to avoid dealing with his emotions right now. 

\-- 

When evening had rolled around. Things had finally struck a balance of sorts. Toshinori's attitude relaxed whenever Mr. Aizawa was around though both men were hesitant to drop the formality in their calls for each other's attention. Hisashi never held such qualms settling for "Sho" with their companion. He rolled his wrists stretching them before checking his satchel for his reclaimed prize. Upon seeing the little box he snagged from Curator Nezu’s desk safe in his bag he looked around. Sho was off taking a shower or a nap or something. Toshinori was reading, so that left Hizashi to his own devices. Smirking he found new targets.. Sho and Toshi had been pushed as far as they could today. He’d try toeing the line with them tomorrow.

These folks all sitting together having a round of drinks might be good company for a while. The vast majority of the men around the table looked haunted or maimed or a varying degree of both. 

"What's your poison guys?" Hizashi asked wandering over. 

One man whose face had been covered by a reflective shroud looked up. He twitched his head to the side. "Poker. We cut you deal."

No harm ever came from a friendly game of poker. Save for monetary loss right? "Playing for fun or is there a prize involved?"

"Conversation at most and a small bit of money in the pot at best, don't bet what you can't afford to lose ain't that right?"

There was a unanimous grunt of approval from the other members of the table, but still no one looked entirely happy about the interloper. 

 

Toshinori entered the shared room, wondering if he could perhaps find a spot to fold his body into a comfortable position. He had thus far, hit his head on the ceiling trying to stand up, hit his head on the provided lamp and nearly tripped over the wicker chairs that were inside. All in all he felt like a bear in a too small cage.

He wasn’t clumsy but this room was hardly friendly towards someone of his stature. 

The banging around had gotten the door to the bathroom the slam open. There a sopping wet Shouta Aizawa was holding a makeshift weapon aloft. Suds freely falling from his hair before trailing steadily down. 

Toshinori should have been ashamed for letting his eyes follow the path down Shouta’s chest, old healed scars both properly patched plus ones done on the fly littered the man’s form. Toshinori swallowed, the man was gorgeous underneath the layers of cloth. 

Lower still right at the stomach dare he look lower? 

A book connecting with his face told him the answer. “SORRY! SORRY!” 

“I’m not an exhibit at a zoo! OUT!” 

Mr. Aizawa was furious, by the looks of things, it looked like he was going to start aiming for something far worse than a book. Toshinori ran out slamming the door behind him. He covered his mouth as he stared at the decking. Ashamed of himself he made himself scarce for the better part of the rest of the day. 

 

 

Evening had fallen over the barge, Hizashi was roughly in the same spot playing cards with shady looking characters. 

“So what are you guys after?” Hizashi finally asked taking a pull from a bottle of beer.

“Hamunaptra.” One man supplied. 

“Oh just so-” Hizashi stopped when Toshi put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing a gentle warning of the unspoken ‘no’. 

“We’re sort of going on an archeological dig. We work for a magazine.” Hizashi said showing his hand. 

The men cursed throwing their hands down. 

Toshinori eyed the characters around the table, “We wish you the best of luck getting there.” 

“Hmm we’ll be fine. We’ve got ourselves someone that’s been there before.” 

“Oh? Well my brother…” another squeeze, harder this time. 

“Truly now? How interesting. Mind if I speak with them? I’m… doing an interview.” Toshinori asked putting on a fake smile. 

The man with the covered face gestured towards the port side of the ship. “He’s somewhere over there.” 

“Evening gentlemen, ‘Zashi…” one last squeeze and a whispered: “Mop the floor with them.” 

Toshinori dismissed himself walking away, until he hit the shadows cast by the oil lamps did he power himself up. If this was who he thought it was. Perhaps it would be better to be in a more recognizable form. 

“Toshi?” The voice was clear, familiar, and warm. “Toshi you’re alive?”

“David?” Toshi grinned but he couldn’t keep the smile too long. His friend had aged since last Toshinori saw him, the tell tale lines of exhaustion evident on the man’s face. 

“Looks like you made it out better than I did.” David joked. 

“Well I wouldn’t say that much. How did you survive that explosion?” Toshinori rushed. 

“It broke my spine it took a year or so for me to learn to walk again. The men that found me brought me back to get fixed up.”

“And they’re dragging you back in, to collect the debt.” Toshinori finished with a sigh. 

David hung his head his hair much shorter now so nothing could hide the look of unbridled hurt. “Good Samaritans my ass. Don’t tell me you’re in some sort of horrid cultist shit too.”

Cult? What cult? 

“No but my brother made trouble, after I was almost executed.” 

“Ah the warden.”

“You know of him?”

“The sailors all hate him hard to miss it.” David shrugged, “But get yourself out of this rat race now. It’s not good to be heading to Hamunaptra now.” 

“The men you’re with…”

“Get out now.” David repeated, “Just go another direction and go home.” 

“I’m not leaving you. Had I known I would have-”

“Toshi… Just stop what’s done is done. You had your reasons.”

“Well.” Toshinori rolled up his shirt showing the horrid blooming scar on his side, “Impaling will do that.”

“You still look good.”

“Picked up a trick while I was there. Not sure how, but I did.” Toshinori tucked his shirt back in, putting his hands in his pockets. At least his clothes were loose enough for him to pull this trick off. 

David made a noncommittal noise, looking to his friend again, “Don’t play the hero.” 

David clearly forgot the man he was speaking too. The next words David spoke had him on edge, “The man your traveling with isn’t what he says he is. Whatever he’s told you. It’s not true.”

“Do you know who he is?” Toshinori asked glancing over his shoulder.

“Not personally but I know my merry band is.” he shifted his hip, then grabbed a walking stick to stand up, “Very interested in him.” 

“Shit.” 

“Go home Toshi.” David patted Toshinori’s face affectionately before limping off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading :3 
> 
> If I can manage it, I would post more than once a month. But as I'm balancing multiple life things, and multiple work things this is the best I can do orz


	8. Chapter 7: Fire Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this Chapter- Violence, Fire, Long Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: HEY ALL I’ve been getting busier and busier these days. Even though it’s the end of August I have a long way to go before I can hit my end-of-year deadline for a hopefully successful long term project that needs to finally be in the light instead of me hiding it away. What does this mean for this story? Probably not much at all since I’ve no desire to stop writing this story as it is good fun for me still. It’s also a way for me to take a break from drawing and writing by… Writing…

Curator Nezu was anything but an idiot, but he did have a certain level of trust he had for Hizashi. He had hoped that the artist would have left the key behind. Perhaps the want for adventure would be enough to satisfy him, but when Hizashi, Toshinori, and his second in command went off to the docks. Nezu wouldn’t have had too much concern if the key had remained on his desk. But since it was gone- he couldn’t take the risk.

He had sent out a few men to retrieve the key ‘by any means necessary’. Then adding “For the love of Allah, don’t kill One for All.” 

The two men bowed leaving his office without another word.

Nezu sat back rubbing his face in dismay, pouring himself tea trying to settle his nerves. “Forgive me Shouta. But I don’t think you’re aware of this.” 

\----Barge----

Toshinori had made it back to the rooms after his talk with David. His mind racing, so much so, when his head hit the beam running across the ceiling of the room he merely muttered a “Pardon me” before he kept pacing. 

A cult? There was a cult? Why? For what cause? Why were they interested in Aizawa? 

“Aizawa?” he called, looking around the tiny room. The cots in the room were empty, so was the sitting area, “Shit…” he hit his head again. He wished to rip the beam completely from the ceiling not caring if it was for support or not. 

He sat down his mood darkening by the minute. How could he get David out of this mess? Surely there was a way. There had to be. His leg began to bounce as he tried to plan a grand strategy that involved as little bloodshed as possible. Thus far shoving the man into a large laundry bag to carry him off the boat with seemed to be his best (and most comical) option.

 

Out on the decks Shouta was wandering barefoot, his hair loose, falling onto bare shoulders. Most of the passengers had turned in early for the night, since in the morning they would make port. Shouta was merely dreading what his duty entailed, his hands shoved into his pockets as he paced. His eyes scanning the horizon line, his stomach knotting with dread, though he couldn’t ascertain why.

Hizashi had wandered off, seemingly mopped the floor with the rather shady looking characters spinning a tale as wide as the Nile. If they were simple treasure seekers, then Shouta was President What’s-his-face in America. Hizashi had made off with a fair sum of money as he walked away from the table before dinner. Where the brothers were now, he didn’t know nor did he care at the moment. He knew he had a job to do but Mr. Yagi was making his life difficult eyeing him up as if… as if…

Shouta shook his head, any topic but this one! Any topic. 

 

Hizashi had slipped into the bathroom of the shared room, upon seeing his brother having a crisis of faith (again), he thought it best to leave him there for now. A shower would do him wonders after a drawn out poker game and watching egos being bruised after each deal. He just prayed his brother would be less manically depressed when he came out of the shower. Though it felt like the prayer was falling on deaf ears. Hizashi made sure to make time for himself to prepare for whatever blow his big brother was about to dish out, though, he felt guilty for doing so. He shut the bathroom door with a soft click moments later.

Toshinori’s leg continued to bounce to make himself feel better, he enlarged himself. He sat back only to immediately shrink back down when the couch began to creak nearly giving way to his increased density. He was aching to leave the room fully charged up in his prime form to find Aizawa to shake him down until the dark haired man bore his soul. His eyes pinching shut with an unwanted memory of Shouta coming out of the shower came to view, skin flushed from the shower, eyes wide with an undetermined emotion. It was far too easy for Toshinori’s mind to turn the whole thing into a graphic fantasy. He swallowed forcing the image of Shouta’s muscular thighs spread wide, a coy smirk beckoning him closer---

Toshinori shot up out of his seat so quickly he hit his head cracking the ceiling. He yowled in pain holding his head in his hands. The hard sound of metal hitting the ground made him momentarily forget his aching skull and the muffled confusion of the people above him. He felt around until his hands closed on a cool metallic object. 

 

Shouta heard the sound of giant wings, the breeze on his back then a near silent landing. He spun around, “Hawkes?”

“Ah! Aizawa Sir!” the man ruffled his hair a little, bit his inner cheek before blurting out in a rushed whisper: “Bad news I’m afraid.” 

“The Creature?”

“Still locked up and dead.” 

“Good. What sort of news?” 

“The Key isn’t with General Nezu.” 

Shouta couldn’t help but think being ran through with a sword would be less alarming, “Who has it?”

“We’re assuming the long haired one nicked it.” 

“You’re not harming them are you?”

“If we have to. Enji is coming aboard just in case One for All puts up a fuss.”

Great the pyromaniac with the shortest fuse imaginable. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Who cares about a key when a barge is on fire.”

“At least chuck any non targets overboard.” Shouta groaned rubbing his face in dismay. 

“Right! Oh here you’ll need to cover that up.” A leather bracer was slapped on Shouta’s wrist. Hawkes snapping his fingers before two large arms clamped around his form. The arms were instantly familiar to Shouta. 

“Todoroki?!” Shouta squeaked finding his body instinctively kicking, “At least let me get my clothes! My weapons!?” 

“Keep quiet you’ll alert the whole damn boat.” the large man hissed in his ear as he hauled Shouta’s still struggling form up and over. 

“You F--” before Shouta could finish his statement he was chucked some distance away his body hitting with a loud splash. Enji smiled as if he had enjoyed himself. 

 

Toshinori looked up from the puzzle box, he held it in one large knobbly hand as he left the cramped comfort of the cabin, only to be met with several men standing on deck wearing black layered robes. Was this the cult David was warning him about?

“The Key…” the taller man snarled walking forward.

Toshinori backed away, and into the cabin locking it, figuring it was no real use but a slight comfort nonetheless. 

“Toshinori?” Hizashi peered out of the bathroom, his hair still wet, “what was that noise?”

 

Toshinori said nothing at first, grabbing his weapon’s bag shouldering it before grabbing Shouta’s before putting it down. Shouta could get his own shit. But Toshinori wasn't bitter about a damn thing at all concerning the man, nope, definitely not bitter. “It sounded like someone was thrown overboard.” he held up the troublesome puzzle box or key or what-the-fuck-ever it was, “We will discuss this later. Get dressed.” 

 

There was a massive thudding coming from the door. 

Hizashi ducked into the bathroom again leaving Toshinori alone to pocket the key. He hadn’t the time to ready his sidearms but did trigger his Quirk. The door cracking and splintering and then smoldering, the thinner wild blond knocking out a window, “Just hand us the key and--- SHIT!” 

Toshinori threw a chair at the man. 

Hizashi came out of the bathroom, dressed and just in time for the door to break off of the hinges. He saw what he could only call “Past Toshi”, “WHAT THE FUCK FORGET THE PUZZLE BOX WHAT ABOUT YOU!?” His quirk activating making both large men flinch. The red head stooping to hold his ears. Flames fluttering around the man's face and hands. 

“It’s a long story, grab your shit and GET OUT.” Toshinori bellowed as he heard more bodies going overboard. The sound of gunfire and quirk laden battles starting to fill his senses, he could smell something tangy, metallic even. He got woozy for a moment only to be slammed into a wall. An unsuppressed blast of sound came from Hizashi’s mouth, the shock wave was enough to topple the redhead. Hizashi glared at his brother as if all of this were his fault, he grabbed his satchel, grunting as he shouldered Aizawa’s forgotten bag before running out the door knocking another man dressed in black over with the weight of the large bag before running. 

Toshinori assumed his brother safe, he made to leave only to be stopped his skin burning as the man held him by the throat. 

“Just give us the key that’s all we want.” 

Toshinori eyed the man, finding nothing trustworthy in his eyes, so he punched him. Sending the man flying through the room and out and over the deck leaving flames in his wake. 

Toshinori ran out only to be kicked in the chest by the blond who seemed to have a set of wings. Not wasting his time he grabbed the man by the ankles. Chucking him, his blood red wings flailing to regain control before he landed in the water. 

There was a burst of blue flames erupting from a skirmish on the main deck with more men clad in black. He could see David backed up into a corner looking like a terrified cat. The two locked eyes for a brief moment. The men that surrounded David seemed to be having a good time, cheering throughout the on deck battle.

Then the blue flames hit a barrel of explosives sending David scrambling off the boat. Toshinori had to shield himself from the blast with his arm. He felt himself shrink in an attempt to dodge the main blast. 

“YAGI!” Mineta screamed waddling as fast as he could up to him, “YAGI what do we do!?”

“Wait here!” Toshinori said pushing his hands down in a placating manner, “I’ll go get help.” he said hauling his bag over his shoulder before going overboard himself using the hole the redhead made. 

Mineta bounced around looking around. Looking confused and hopeful before reality dawned on him. He stopped his frantic bouncing to curse before rolling off the barge as well. 

 

Hizashi was ashore catching his breath laying next to a half nude Aizawa. 

“Thank you for getting my weapons.” Shouta mumbled. To Hizashi he looked almost ashamed of himself for some reason.

“No problem.” Hizashi panted out.

“Did you manage to get my clothes?” Shouta asked, not looking up from his hands. 

“There was another bag?” Hizashi’s head lifted off of the bank of the river.

Shouta listened to the barge exploding, people hitting the water, swimming frantically to shore. “Not any more.” 

Toshinori came trudging up the banks coughing wetly. Hizashi was scrambling up to check on him. “Are you hurt?!” 

“No. Little singed.” Toshinori said making it onto the banks next to Aizawa. 

“Well at least we have weapons…” Aizawa said standing to take the bag from Toshinori. 

“Where are your clothes?” Toshinori asked suddenly interrupting what the man was about to say. 

Aizawa pointed towards the engulfed barge, “And there go the horses… with Yamada’s Poker Buddies.” 

David was among the herd of horses, looking decidedly put out, looking towards Toshinori’s direction. But then he realized something, he and his “companions” were on the wrong side of the river. The manic glee on the man’s face took Toshinori aback. Before his face fell as the burned man went to haul him onto a horse. 

“LET’S MAKE A BET YAMADA!” The bandaged man called, “Who will be the first to get the treasure!” 

“MEH!” Hizashi barked back, “IF YOU’RE POKER STRATEGY IS ANYTHING TO GO BY WE DON’T HAVE TO WORRY!” 

Toshinori sniffed looking down at Warden Mineta making his first tentative steps out of the water like some sort of bloated seal. He smelled about as good as a wet dog that had been rolling in filth. He turned his face away from the man only to see Shouta bending over trying to find something to cover himself with. Toshinori fixed gaze at a patch of reeds, there was no way he was going to be caught ogling this man twice in one day. 

“Let’s… Get you some clothes.” 

“Thank you.” Shouta mumbled trying to figure out how to make his capture weapon into a crude shirt still. 

The morning after the barge was attacked had left Hizashi shaken, but he didn’t dare open his mouth to make his reservations be known. He was however not holding back his reservations about purchasing four camels. The old man he was dealing with was scalping him right out of a chunk of his gambling winnings (which was a pretty penny if he did say so himself). 

Toshinori had allowed this haggling to go on for about half an hour. Warden Mineta had been all but glued to them until his eyes wandered towards a tent filled with women. Toshinori not being quiet about the “Pig” he dropped as Mineta waddled into the tent. This morning he had a bitter taste in his mouth. There were too many questions not enough answers his temper was starting to rise to try and contain himself he crossed his arms, his back ramrod straight. 

“I’m not asking for a bloody caravan I just need FOUR CAMELS.” 

There was a painful throb in Toshinori’s temple when he bellowed, “JUST PAY THE MAN.” 

Hizashi stared at his brother the money that he had in his hands was slapped into gnarled hands almost blindly and the reigns shoved into them just as quick. 

Toshinori exhaled rubbing his face, he issued no apology wanting to find their missing party members and go. Though the temptation just to head back to the city was tempting tie Hizashi up, gag him then ride off into the dunes. Aizawa was essentially home right? He lived out here in this hell-scape he could find his way. 

Mineta? Well… a good solid whack with a frying pan would shut him up. 

Speaking of which, Toshinori felt his mood lift, when, the women merely chucked Mineta out of their tent their words molding together almost like an angry bee hive. 

“How much would you bet if we just handed our guide to him he’d give us the camels for free? He seems to know exactly where everything is- I hadn’t a clue there was a town here. You?” 

“Not a damn clue.” Toshinori said before he straightened up watching Mr. Aizawa walk towards the group. 

“All I’m saying is it’s tempting.” Hizashi grumbled seemingly trying to make light of his bruised haggling skills. 

These clothes were much, much better. They were still linen with scatterings of another light breezy material Toshinori couldn’t name. All black or a very deep navy colour along with desert shoes. The cut of the clothes showed off the well toned body underneath, hinting at his figure in the best way possible. 

“Tempting…” Toshinori nodded making the dark haired man tilt his head in confusion. 

It wasn’t long after that the four set off. Aizawa having to physically restrain Hizashi when he saw the old man laughing to a group of villagers. 

“He’s not talking about us.” Shouta hissed. 

“Don’t care I want to rip his face off.” Hizashi snarled.

“Save it.” Shouta snarled forcing Hizashi to remain on his camel. 

 

Travelling the desert with these men had been interesting thus far. Mineta mainly kept to himself seemingly too miserable and hot in his wool uniform. Shouta merely rolled his eyes trying to keep away from him, urging his camel forward. He kept his eye on Toshinori, who was taking the heat like a champion his face covered in a bright blue scarf often pulling the shroud forward to cover his eyes. As night fell the shroud would go back down around his neck, he’d slump in his saddle. 

Shouta rode closer to keep the man from falling off his mount. The blond’s head hitting him in the shoulder at one point. Shouta meant to push him back up but he’d just slump back over. So he let the man be. Mr. Yagi’s gentle puffs of breath coming out, he’d grimace on occasion, snuggle closer as if deriving comfort from Shouta’s presence. 

 

Shouta honestly didn’t know how he felt about the whole thing, he found himself shushing the camels as they rode. But bit off a snicker when he heard Mineta’s snoring be disrupted with a none too subtle slap to the face with a riding whip. 

 

All too soon he found himself back in very familiar territory. Two convoys converging at a single point. The men from the barge had hired or brought diggers with them. They were serious about digging in Hamunaptra which set Shouta and Toshinori on edge, both sharing mutual concerned looks. 

“Looks like you made it after all.” the burn man smirked getting his horse in position. Then looked towards the vast looming desert. “You best not be lying Shield.” 

“I’m not… just wait.” David wobbled on his camel, he looked as if he had been drugged at best. Either that the desert heat had made him unwittingly compliant. Toshinori felt his teeth grinding at the sight of the man. 

David looked up from his haze, eyeing Toshinori, his face pinched in confusion. It seemed as if he was trying to rise above whatever it was, but whatever afflicted the man took him before he could work out the ‘Toshinori mystery box’ as his head slumped forward. His breathing even but slow.

“Mr. Aizawa?” Toshinori asked suddenly, the urge to rush to David was strong, but the men that encircled his friend looked armed to the teeth. 

“Yes?” the man got close, close enough for Toshinori to catch a whiff of some sort of spice that seemed to be lingering on the man’s skin. 

“Why did you lead us here if you detest this place so much?” 

“There is a story unfolding here.” Shouta began looking up, “I’m keen to know the destination.” 

“Heaven forbid you admit you’re fond of us.” Hizashi teased, “By the way- what are we waiting for?”

“The sun of a new day.” Shouta sighed. 

“How about a little bet!” 

“LEAVE OFF IT.” Hizashi shouted. 

“First one to hit Hamunaptra gets to claim the better camp site!” 

“No such thing.” Toshinori grumbled.

“DEAL!” Hizashi called back much to Toshinori’s consternation. 

Hizashi faced forward again, watching as the haze of the sun lifted high enough, a swirling mass of columns and sandstone structures appearing as if fading back into reality. “Oh wow…” 

There was a tense pause, before the race began. Toshinori surging ahead at first, only to be met with one very wild eyed man, bandaged and manic looking, his eyes bloodshot as if he didn’t remember to blink often enough. The sight of this made him want to get away, he urged his camel forward only to be struck in the face with a crop. He didn’t bite back his expletive. The constant smacks to his face and arms made what little good sportsmanship he had, had gone to the wayside as he ripped the crop from the man’s hand, returning the favour with one well placed blow under the man’s chin (at least that’s where he thought the man’s chin was), sending him flying off. 

Shouta came trotting up beside him. Toshinori found himself smiling to the man, glad to see a friendly face. Shouta smiled but his face broke off into a sudden yawn, his camel surging forward as his head slumped heading into Hamunaptra’s main gate and into the courtyard. Toshinori following in close to stop the camel as it kept it’s pace. 

“Mr. Aizawa?” 

Nothing greeted him save for Mr. Aizawa’s slow, steady breathing.


	9. Chapter 8: Line in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension is ramping up on all sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [explodes through door] I LIVE
> 
> Hi all sorry for the massive delay in updates. Things are.... happening??? On my end. There's some growing pains and remembering how to do things properly (I've been down and out too long and it shows). Friends are trying to help but I do feel like an idiot for not remembering things. But learning to be kind to myself is an upward struggle. 
> 
> But at least the chapters up ^^

Settling into Hamunaptra was not unlike growing wisdom teeth, one would think there would be enough room. But once there, it was decidedly the uneasy grumblings of “No you move” with each party refusing to budge for a moment. 

Toshinori was even shorter in his temper than before. Hizashi calling on his sour mood only made the librarian even more volatile. Toshinori had opened his mouth as if to cut his brother down. Mercifully, Aizawa stepped in and merely studied Toshinori in a calm manner until the tallest man in their particular group stalked off in a huff. 

“I see you joined us from falling asleep in the middle of a race.” Hizashi chuckled, wanting to have an immediate topic change.

“It was soothing.”

“Being jostled around like a sack of potatoes?” Hizashi froze from laying his sleeping bag down.

“People are strange creatures. I knew a man that couldn’t sleep without a stone to lay his head on.” Aizawa shrugged. 

Hizashi wanted to call bullshit, “Well… either that you’ve got some sort of weird narcolepsy thing going on.” 

Aizawa merely smirked at him, shaking his head fondly, “Who knows?”

 

Toshinori was hammering stakes for tents into the sand, his hand shaking as he did so. He held the hammer aloft, monitoring the sand. He had watched that man get sucked dry by the sands. What woke such a demon? What monster was hidden here that had a Quirk so powerful to drain a man of every last drop of fluid in them? What triggered such a display? His hand came down and connected not with the stake but his thumb. 

Toshinori dropped the hammer holding his hand. It took everything in him not to list to his side and lay on the damnable ground. 

“Are you alright?” Came a voice he didn’t expect to hear, looking up, he could make out the backlit face of Mr. Aizawa. One of these days, he might drop the formality with the man’s name. 

Toshinori showed the already bruising portion of his thumb. 

The dark haired man cursed; dropped to his knees in the sand fetching out a rag from one of his belt pouches and a small vial. “Hand.” He ordered. 

Toshinori numbly complied watching deft hands strike out and take his hand, in the moments it takes one to blink- Shouta had a soothing balm poured over the area, and was proceeding to bandage his hand. 

Toshinori could feel the cooling menthol like substance easing the pain, he wondered if his Quirk would activate at some point, rendering all of this man’s hard work null and void. 

“Is it broken?”

Toshinori wiggled and bent his thumb, slowly his lips pinching into a grimace of pain as he did so. Mr. Aizawa nodded. “This is the best I can do. Ice is hard to come by this far into the desert. It can be done but the next oasis is a days ride.” Toshinori watched the man talk, and saw that there was the temptation within his eyes to do just that. How… sweet of him to bother.

“You don’t have to bother with it, I heal quick.” 

Aizawa looked up, the subtle look of his shock at being figured out was evident, “I…” he eased away. 

Toshinori found this endearing, he didn’t know why, the light pink flush betraying the stoic man even more. 

“Don’t worry ‘Zashi won’t hear it from me. But I could use your help getting this stake in.” 

“Certainly…” 

“Where are you sleeping?” Toshinori asked, realizing he hadn’t seen this man pitch a tent or any sort of cover.

Shouta lifted his hand in a slow arc, and pointed to one of the sandstone columns, that was broken right at the middle of the arch. “I’ll camp up there and keep watch that way.” 

“There? But-”

“I don’t sleep well I might as well be useful. I’ve figured out what some call ‘power naps’.” 

Toshinori huffed, “There is a race going on in my mind, who needs to be given the mother hen treatment more- you, or ‘Zashi.” 

Shouta tilted his head in confusion, “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m tempted to swaddle you like a newborn babe and shove you into the tent once it’s built so you can get proper sleep.”

“No such thing with these unhallowed grounds.” 

“That… I’ll give you…” Toshinori’s head bowed in defeat. He looked up, “You can still head off you know.” He gave a lopsided smile, “I won’t claim you as anything outside of wiser than the rest of us.”

“Not with you smashing your fingers to death. Hold the stake steady I’ll hammer.” Shouta grumbled ducking his face into his capture weapon as he blushed once more. There was just something about that smile. Why it made him blush and his stomach twist Shouta couldn’t say. 

The two worked in compatible silence for a time, Hizashi coming over to lend a hand. 

“Looks like your friend is coming back to himself.” Hizashi said, jerking his head toward the other camp, tents already set up, a few rings for campfires evident from the workers buzzing around like an active beehive. Toshinori turned seeing David’s stormy look as he gazed around. His posture sagging ever more. 

“Whatever they hit him with. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of it.” Hizashi shuddered, “We can bust him out of this situation right, Toshi?” 

“I’m not sure.” The blond admitted, “Worth a shot.” 

Aizawa made a soft huffing noise, “If we knew what we were up against.” 

“Oh yeah no problem.” Hizashi chirped, “Bandages Mc Mummy is Tomura Shirgaraki, Burns I’ve only ever heard be called “Dabi”, Masked Avenger is Kai Chisaki.” 

“And you didn’t think this was important for us to know--- since when?” Aizawa hissed.

“Barge caught fire. You were wandering around in your skivvies… names can wait.” Hizashi sniffed. 

“Fair point.” Aizawa conceded, “Know anything about their Quirks?”

“Dabi has a wicked fire quirk. Shigaraki I’m not sure but it’s touch based and it’s really bad to deal with. Can’t tell you more than that.” 

“Chisaki?” Toshinori asked. 

“Not a clue. I’m guessing he’s mean.” 

“Helpful… very helpful…” Toshinori gritted out trying not to react as if his brother had just kicked his balls. 

“I do my best!” Hizashi chirped gleefully. 

Toshinori didn’t honestly blame Aizawa for rubbing his face and leaving for a moment. He could pick up on a few words the dark haired man said: ‘This man-child is going to get us all killed.’ 

“So, Toshi.” Hizashi said slowly after watching Aizawa go past a pillar, “What can you tell me about this place?”

“It ain’t right. When I told you about that one man that was sucked dry? Happened…” Toshinori paused turning a little then pointing, “A few hundred yards past those two pillars… wait are you taking notes?!”

“Comic.” 

“You…” Toshinori smeared his face with his hand, “Fine… alright ask your questions.” 

Shouta peered from behind the pillar smiling as Horus came fluttering down, his sharp beak nipping at his hands lightly. “I know, I know… I don’t like this either.” He wrote a hasty message:

_Information Needed. Following Names are in Hamunaptra: Dabi. Tomura Shirgaraki and Kai Chisaki. Any info on Quirks would be helpful. One for All is sound. A. S._

When Shouta came back he found Mr.Yagi more than a little worked up. 

“What do you mean? It’s not like I spent my time just reshelving books, I read a few. If they’re treasure seekers- their aiming big. The Book of the Dead is probably what they’re after.” 

Shouta felt his body seize in that moment, there was a buzzing noise that filled his ears. Of course, of course this man knew about that blasted books! It was foolish to think otherwise. Given enough time with the giant good natured oaf that was Toshinori Yagi- it was plain to see how, for lack of a better term, viciously intelligent he was. 

That of course was alluring to Shouta, the unassuming ones. That happen to be taking genetic inspiration from sunflowers. 

“So what were you up too?” Mineta asked his tone smug as he waddled up towards the rest of the group. His ill fitting clothes completely drenched with sweat and other various stains at this point. Shouta found himself holding his breath from the reek coming off of this man. 

“What do you mean?” Shouta questioned trying not to breathe too much. 

“Sneaking a letter off to your wife?” Hugo smirked, “Terribly secretive of you not to tell us where all the pretty ones are.” 

The urge to snap this man’s neck was strong, Shouta’s fingers just ITCHED to grab the edge of his capture weapon, but instead he went for a more civilized response. Turse and cutting as it was, “I’m not the marrying sort but I am calling in a favour.” 

A large hand hit his shoulder as if to steady him from lashing out anyway. Mr. Yagi peering around, “What kind of favour?” 

“Information about our little rivals over there. They’re snoopers, they’ll find information about anyone.” Shouta said calmly, pleased that he didn’t have to try and lie this time. 

Mineta made a sputtering noise, “Fucking spies and this fucking sausage fest is driving me nuts if I don’t see a woman soon….” 

Shouta felt his body lurch forward, strong fingers gave his shoulders a squeeze. Dark eyes met unearthly bright blue ones. Toshinori’s eyes closed for the briefest of moments as he sighed, he shook his head solemnly. ‘We both want to but we can’t.’

Shouta reached up patting gnarled knuckles. It was. Peaceful, sweet even that little gesture that seemed to sow whatever seed that was being nurtured between them. Perhaps it was just their mutual hate of this horrid man, but, Shouta honestly didn’t think so. 

“Do you want to rest for a while or get to digging?” Toshinori asked lightly, but his face betrayed him. He didn’t want to dig anymore than the dark haired man before him did.

“We can dig now I suppose.” Shouta found himself saying, alarmed with how easily the words came to him. If everyone in this group made it out alive it would be a miracle.

“Hizashi we’re going to start, grab the rope will you?”

Hizashi wasn’t paying a lick of attention, he seemed to be taking in their location with a serious pinch in his face. Toshinori, jutted his lower lip for a moment, “Zashi?” 

“Huh?” the artist jolted, “What?” 

“Rope? We’re digging.” 

“Digging?”

“Yes where the treasure is-!” Mineta snapped, Shouta lashed his capture weapon to silence the rest of the insult that was no doubt lurking right under the cloth. 

“Make yourself useful and get the damn shovels.” Shouta hissed releasing him. 

Mineta scrambled away patting his face as he went. 

Hizashi made no mention of the display, acting methodically, with none of the jovial lightness he typically brought. His actions reserved, and cautious. The medjay looked to the tallest blond, his mouth agape in silent concern. 

Toshinori patted his shoulder again, but didn’t seem to have it in him to explain, though his hand lingered on Shouta’s shoulder for a moment more than necessary. 

“Let’s get this over with.” 

Shouta stood watching the two men head after Mineta, his body cold with dread, but the comfort of Toshinori’s touch warmed his shoulder. He watched the broad but thin back of the tall man walk away. His dark eyes glimpsing down to take in Toshinori’s walk….

“Hizashi! Let me do that you’ll put your eye out!” Toshinori called. 

 

“What do you think of them?”

“The blonds? Potentially trouble, the fat one not worth the effort and the medjay? Either that one is intensely stupid.” Dabi grumbled, “Or plays his cards close to his chest.” He rolled his neck several vertebrae cracking as he did so, he rolled his arm, “Pity we can’t make a move and take them apart now. Especially the medjay.” 

“The question then becomes… why is he here? He should be out fucking a sand dune or planning an attack not _here_.” 

“We’ve got larger troubles than the damn medjay..” Chisaki snapped, watching the four off in the distance, “Shield is getting immune to the sedatives. He should be complying with our every whim with the dosages I have him on.” 

“I knew we should have brought the girl.” 

“She’s too useful to us alive.” Tomura grumbled, “He’s the lame duck he won’t be missed after we get our man unearthed… he’s our offering.” 

“You’d think we’d give him something better than a half broken Eygptologist… but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.” 

“Is that big one smacking the fattened duck up with the rope?” 

The men paused watching. 

Toshinori, had too much line for a standard loop knot, but getting his own back after the whippings he sustained at the prison? Too good to pass up, he tossed the line aiming for Mineta’s face. The man trying to bat the rope away but having no success in it. 

“It’s a pity they’re almost amusing…. For adult children.”

“We best get in their boys, they’re already in and they are drastically outnumbered.” Dabi stood up as he watched the one called “Toshi” hop down into the rooms below. 

 

Toshinori was helping people down, Shouta came down needing no assistance, he landed deftly like a cat, but the man froze before holding himself now they were down in the cool of the crypt. His hand tingled with his Quirk healing his hand, a sudden wave of sadness hitting him as if there was some nostalgia for this crypt. Unnerved Toshinori closed his eyes to steel himself for a long agonizing dig.

Hizashi was much more ginger in his decent, but he was scrambling to get off the rope before Mineta came down any more, “Someone needs to throw him in a bathtub…” he hissed to Toshinori. 

Toshi could only smile sadly at his little brother. “Hizashi? See those Mirrors over there? Tilt the one you’re standing next to a little farther up please?” 

“Like this?” Hizashi asked moving the stiff mirror a little.

“And then there was….” Toshinori paused for dramatic effect, “Light.” 

Beams of light seemed to be bouncing around the chamber some areas darker from thick cobwebs but the lighting was there.

Once in the chamber the mirrors doing their work to cast light about the room, the four men took in the heart of Hamunaptra. Hizashi, more himself sat down where he stood and began sketching the scene before him. 

Toshinori, looked around, “This… looks like a preparation room. Mr. Aizawa, is there anything in the oral traditions that say that Hamunaptra was a mortuary?” 

“No and this isn’t…. Really a complete one from what I can tell. It’s as if they used whatever was to hand, buried whomever it was and left.” Shouta said, his stomach sinking all the more, “I don’t see the typical tools used in mummification here… at all…” 

Shouta swallowed the lump building in his throat, this was the Creature’s domain. It would have been easier if the stories painted this man-turned-beast in a more humanizing light. But all of the details that came to light in the writings of the time cast him in as a powerful less than caring light, contradictory even. His care and love for his brother growing corrupt with in the span of a few short years. As for the original carrier of One for All- Shouta felt as if he had stepped into the man’s place of dwelling after he had recently died. That awkward pain of not knowing what you were allowed to touch and that slow burn of unshed tears. 

Mineta broke out of his reverie quickly, grabbing out a satchel, and lumbered down the nearest corridor. It was time for him to cash in on not hanging the monstrous bastard. It seemed as if all was going well for him. Yes, Hugo Mineta will go home a very wealthy man. He’d leave his jail to rot in the desert sun while he lived it up doing whatever and whomever he pleased.

Toshinori found himself being drawn into Shouta’s personal space, like a cat seeking a sun beam, the man just comforted his tattered nerves. 

“Tell me about yourself.” He said listening to Hizashi hum a random tune sketching away. 

“Not much to say to tell you the truth…”

“You’re not the marrying sort… I’d have to disagree.”

“In my line of work I’d never be home, any children I could potentially have would not know me, and if I take a wife she’d despise the shadow I cast.” 

Toshinori bumped his shoulder with Shouta’s, “You’re lying you’d be good with kids.”

“You’ve never seen me around kids.” 

“Well when we get back I’ll make sure the barge we get on is swarming with them.” 

Shouta’s eyes went wide, “You wouldn’t dare.” 

Toshinori’s head went back in a booming laugh, Shouta, did his best not to lean in, failing miserably. 

“Alright then, what about you Mr. Yagi?” 

“Toshinori.” He insisted. 

“Shouta then if we’re going informal.”

“PROGRESS!” Hizashi crowed throwing his hands up, “About damn time.” He hunched over his sketchbook again going back to his work. 

“Zashi….” Toshinori chided. 

“Answer his question. Don’t mind me.” 

“What question?”

“What about you? Any aspirations for kids or a family?”

Toshinori’s face grew grey then, “Not anymore.” 

Shouta gave the man a sympathetic look, reaching over and patting his shoulder, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“See? Even Sho’s saying it.” Hizashi called, before getting up and walking towards a statue. 

Toshinori shrugged. 

“There’s… some legs right here.” Hizashi gestured for the other men to come look. He knew a few things here and there, but he wasn’t his brother bored out of his skull in an empty library reading all day long, so it took him a moment to translate the hieroglyphics. His hands reaching out and brushing aside a thick layer of cobwebs. “Ho….rus… Horus.” 

Shouta fought the instinct to look up to see if his bird was back already. Of course it wasn’t but there was that desperate foolish hope. No one in this group, save for maybe Mineta, even knew he had a falcon.

Hizashi stared up the statue, his head tilting to and fro. As if he was contemplating something, He looked down at the base right under the feet of Horus, and knelt down. Jiggling a loosened stone. ‘Open this.’ a little voice said, ‘I need what’s inside.’ 

What was inside? Hizashi felt bile rise up in his throat, what was making him so sick? 

“Zashi? HIZASHI!” Toshinori grabbed him by the shoulders hauling his limp form back into a sitting position. 

When had he fallen? 

“We should get him out of here.” Shouta said, “Whatever is in here is making him sick.” 

“We might have to leave get you to a doctors.” 

“I’m not four, I’m FINE. We’re STAYING” Hizashi snarled his voice raising enough to echo down the chambers, and made some loose sand drift down on their heads.

“Enough of that temper of yours.” Toshinori snapped, “Up you get we’re taking a break.” 

“We haven’t done anything you’re playing footsie with the guide.”

“And you’re sketching.”

“That’s my job!”

“Quiet both of you!” Shouta hissed, “I heard something.” 

There was an echoing groan that filter through the halls, a dull murmur that came after. Shouta and Toshinori both reached for their sidearms creeping along the pathway peering around. Hizashi was left to slowly rise to his feet. 

Shouta and Toshinori flung themselves forward guns clicking back. It was joined by more clicking, their ‘rivals’ had come to this particular chamber. 

“Well well, look what we have here.” 

David was there, his balance better for the moment, but his eyes from what Toshinori could tell were blown out, he wobbled forward leaning close to the barrel, as if pleading with Toshinori to squeeze the trigger. A firm hand grabbed the auburn haired man back, who let out a frustrated huff. 

“This here is our dig spot.” Dabi said haughtily 

“We were here first!” Hizashi ground out his shoulders locking. 

“Yet you’re outnumbered, I’d like to see what the three of you can do with an army of us.” Tomura began, his voice cold a smirk hidden behind his face covering. 

“You’d be surprised…” Toshinori found himself saying, he wanted David over on their side he was half tempted to put the offer of this particular spot to dig in in exchange for David Shield. He opened his mouth. But the words died as David stepped forward his face clear of the haze. He forced Toshinori’s gun down with a gentle hand, Dabi’s smoldering hand was also forced down. 

 

“Children we’re sharing this space and we have to learn to play fair and share.” David said, then more seriously, he looked to Toshinori: “There are other places to dig.” he said slowly as if making a point between his spoken words. 

Toshinori’s eyes widened slowly then watched as David’s eyes flickered quickly, and his lips pursed, as if to say: ‘I got this strong man’. 

Toshinori bowed, “Shouta, you said you saw another corridor? Why don’t we look there. Help ‘Zashi gather his things.” 

“But!” 

“Now Zashi!” 

Hizashi huffed grabbing his canvas bag and shoving his supplies roughly into them. “Anything to leave I bet… anything.” He stomped petulantly down the hall into the next big room he spotted. 

Which left Shouta and Toshinori to walk after him like concerned parents. Safeties back on their weapons then put away. 

“I’m worried about him.” Toshi grunted, “This place is fucking with his head and I can’t get my brother’s head out of his own ass long enough to see it.” 

“We can always tie him up on a camel and start making it back to the city.” Shouta said, “But what about your lover?” 

Toshinori paused, “Lover?” 

“I believe you said his name is “David” correct?” 

Toshinori coughed so violently blood came rushing out of his mouth, splattering the sand floor and flecking Shouta’s pale cheek with crimson. 

Shouta exhaled his horror as he watched the blond cover his mouth but another glut came forth. He held Toshinori’s sagging form upright. 

“We’re not…. We haven’t!!” Toshinori stammered. 

“I’m not accusing you… but you two know the subtle tells.” Shouta said, “And it’s more common than you think I know two men in a relationship back home.” 

Toshinori settled, “We, we wanted too but there was no way for me to sneak out without raising some alarm.” 

Shouta merely hummed, as if the detail was neither here nor there. “Sit. You need water.” He said pushing Toshinori to sit on a toppled pillar. 

“It’s nothing I promise it’... happens fairly regularly actually.” 

“Yeah like you eating too much, or if you’re startled, or if you’re having one of those freaky attacks, or if a bird flies past the window back home too fast, or if there’s a banging noise…” Hizashi tattled, “It’s not exactly easy to deal with.” 

“I can get it myself---” Toshi broke off watching Shouta’s hair lift in wavy tendrils straight up, and his eyes kick up in an eerie neon red light. 

“Sit. Breathe. I’ll be back.” Shouta ground out, he blinked and his hair fell back against his neck. 

 

Hizashi made a huffing noise, watching as Shouta left. He got up with a small digging kit and began scraping around the place.

“What are you doing?” Toshinori asked, dreading his brother’s answer. 

“Poking around, I’m bored of this and you two are acting like superstitious old hens and I’m going to prove to you that there isn’t anything to be afraid of.” Hizashi snapped “What happened to your spine Toshi? You used to be so damn confident, now look at you.” he said waving his trowel around gesturing in a fit, “You flinch at the damn sand settling! I know this spot has a shit ton of bad memories for you, but at this point you’re fucking pathetic, face the damn past, heal, and get on with it! You and Sho are just feeding into each other’s fears! This helps no one!” 

“And YOU have no idea the power of this place! It’s not good. I’ve had enough of your shit talking Hizashi! Pack up your shit, we’re getting out of here before whatever fucking bullshit figures out we’re here and WAKES UP.”

“Oh get off it! This place is no more lively than a normal archeological dig! Face it you’re a fucking old man no braver than a beaten dog! I’m fucking sick of it!” Hizashi yelled his quirk activating on certain words. He stalked forward not noticing he was potentially about to start caving in the room they were situated in. 

Toshinori opened his mouth to argue back, but Hizashi turned heel and threw his trowel straight into the base of the statue he had been jabbing at. Hizashi blind in his fury, but his aim was scarily accurate. 

Sand began to filter down slowly, as if it was an hourglass, the rush, didn’t slow however, as a sound of horrid creaking formed. 

Hizashi was wise to scramble into his brother’s arms. Toshinori kicking them away as a large black object crashed to the floor. Both brothers sat in dumbfounded silence, their previous feuding on a temporary pause for a later time. 

“A… sarcophagus.” Toshinori swallowed the dryness in his throat, now that the air settled he could see better, “Buried at the base of Anubis…” 

“To-Toshi? What does that mean?” Hizashi asked slowly getting to his feet. 

Toshinori grunted as he got up, “Either he was very powerful or did something truly horrible from what I learned from David and my own studies. Maybe even both.” 

“So what you’re saying is…”

“There’s a high potential for this whole thing being a bad omen.” The golden force within Toshinori seemed to want to burn him up from the inside out, but it retreated and twisted in his gut making the need to _do_ something all the great. But what? The large stone slab before him made his heart beat in his chest all the harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you next chapter take it easy all.


End file.
